


Knives at the Ready

by harrysglasses



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, But so much fluff to make up for it, Chef Alec Lightwood, Chef Magnus Bane, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Magnus is competent, Malec, Multi, Restaurant!AU, Schmoop, Sexual Tension, Team Bonding, Team as Family, and Alec has the hots for it, basically a burnt au, ok almost everyone is a chef
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-04 07:23:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13359330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrysglasses/pseuds/harrysglasses
Summary: The Institute is New York City's finest dining establishment, winner of two Michelin Stars and currently chasing after its third.  Head Chef Alec Lightwood is notorious for running a tight ship in his kitchen, but everything is about to change with the arrival of their newest recruit, renowned pastry chef Magnus Bane.In the competitive, cut-throat world of the restaurant industry where pressure runs high and tempers run hotter, can Alec keep his team under control, win a third Michelin star, and ignore his ever-growing attraction to a certain charming pâtissier, whose smile is even sweeter than his desserts?





	1. Chapter 1

Alec Lightwood's home is in the kitchen. It's all he has ever known and everything he knows he will ever want in a career. He loves every part of it- the heat, the pressure, the noise, and all the highs and lows that come with it- from graduating top of his class from the Culinary Institute of America to winning his first Michelin star to spending three hours waiting in the emergency room, blood all over his chef's whites and thinking he was going to bleed out from the deep gash in his hand. 

So on this particularly hellish evening, Alec tries to push aside the worrying thoughts he has swirling around in his mind, reminds himself how much he loves his job and concentrates on plating up the dish in front of him. He finishes up, expertly swiping off excess sauce around the rim of the pristine white plate and calls for service. He takes a moment to cast a quick eye over the rest of the kitchen, where his team is working like a well-oiled machine.

It's a typically busy Friday evening at The Institute, New York City's finest restaurant and winner of two Michelin stars. Alec had started out as a lowly commis, fresh out of school, and within six years had worked his way up to head chef. The restaurant is currently chasing after its third star, a huge and seemingly impossible feat, but Alec knows he has the best team in the country, and is nothing if not determined.

Alec continues plating up dishes efficiently, but finds it harder than usual to concentrate fully. It was enough trying to run the kitchen with the whole pressure of Michelin weighing on his mind, and on top of that, The Institute's head pastry chef had unexpectedly quit two weeks ago, leaving his kitchen one man down. 

In between dishes, Alec looks up to check on the pastry station, making sure everything was running smoothly. It was a mutual decision between the whole kitchen for Jace, Alec's trusty sous chef, to take over in the meantime, as he had the strongest pastry skills out of everyone, but that only meant Alec and the others had to work twice as hard to cover Jace's usual duties. And it also meant their desserts were not up to the usual standards- which couldn't have come at the worst time---

"Alec! Simon says table eight requesting for the chef." 

With that, Alec's thoughts are interrupted and he looks up to see his sister, Isabelle, stride into the kitchen. Dressed in an elegant, figure-hugging black dress and stilettos, she had been Alec's first hire when he had been promoted into the head chef position. With her charming personality, excellent organisational skills and no-nonsense approach, she is the best maitre d’ he could ever ask for.

Alec pulls a face, his hands barely pausing as he finishes up a dish and moves on to the next one. "Izzy, do I have to? We're slammed right now."

"Just two minutes, I promise," Izzy replies.

Alec huffs out a sigh, calls for Clary to cover his place and heads to the kitchen doors, Izzy at his heels. Just before he pushes them open, he turns to his sister.

"Any sauce on my face?"

Izzy smirks. "No, you look like the perfect grumpy head chef." 

Alec suppresses the urge to roll his eyes as he steps out into the dining room. If there was one aspect of his job he disliked, it would be this. He excelled in the kitchen for a reason- behind the scenes, he could be himself- no one hides their emotions in the kitchen, no fake smiles or personalities to please the guests. His food was meant to do that job for him, and Alec always feels awkward and uncomfortable whenever he is forced to meet guests and endure either their compliments or critiques. The front of house roles are better suited to people like Izzy, Lydia and Simon. 

The dining room is cool and quiet compared to the heat and chaos of the kitchen. Alec pauses and takes a moment to look around the elegantly-decorated restaurant. They are fully booked tonight, normal for a Friday evening, and the room is filled with smartly dressed people, the dim lighting from the feature lamps overhead catching on the patrons' jewellery and wine glasses, and silverware clinking delicately in the background. 

"Table eight, Alec," Izzy murmurs in his ear, gesturing discreetly at a small table for two in an intimate corner. "As promised, if you're not done in two minutes, I'll come rescue you."

With that, Izzy returns to the maitre d’ station at the front, leaving Alec to make his way over. He absent-mindedly straightens his black chef jacket as he comes up to the table. There is only a single man seated there, back towards him, and Alec glimpses spiky black hair and broad shoulders beneath a well-fitted blazer as he comes around to face the guest.  

"You must be Chef Lightwood. It's a pleasure to meet you." A smooth, deep voice greets him.

 Alec barely stammers out a _Good Evening_ as his brain struggles to catch up with his mouth. The man in front of him is- for lack of a better word- gorgeous. He is tall and well built, all smooth tanned skin, with stylishly spiked hair tinted with streaks of blue. Alec sees beautiful people in his restaurant all the time, but no one had ever caught his attention or left him as speechless as the one standing there currently, with his hand outstretched waiting for Alec to shake it.

Alec clears his throat and swallows as he reaches out to take the beautiful stranger's hand, whose grip is firm and strong, and palm cool to the touch. 

"I apologise for taking you out of your kitchen, but I had to compliment you on the wonderful meal. It was exquisite." 

"Than- thank you." Alec mumbles, pulling his hand back and wiping his palm on his thigh, self-conscious of the fact that his hand was probably sweaty and still had remnants of sauce on it.

The man smiles at him, his warm brown eyes crinkling, and Alec is distracted by his shimmery navy eyeliner for a moment that he almost misses what he says next.

"The codfish in particular was excellent. But your bread is too dry," the guest continues, not unkindly. 

Alec supposes he should feel offended or at least a little defensive of Jace's bread-making skills, but he finds it hard to care at the moment, still caught off-guard by this handsome stranger. He pauses and tries to come up with something to reply, but is thankfully saved by Simon, his head waiter, who appears by his elbow and grins at the guest.

"I hope everything was fine with your meal, sir. Can I tempt you with some dessert?" Simon asks. 

The man smiles politely at him, but shakes his head. His gaze flicks back to Alec and he smirks slightly, one eyebrow raised- and Alec does not find that devastatingly sexy at all, no he does not.

"No, thank you. I think I've had my fill of eye candy for this evening."

With that, the beautiful man turns and saunters out of the dining room toward the main entrance, leaving behind Simon, who is stifling a laugh behind his hand and Alec, red-faced and gaping like a fish.

 

\--

 

The rest of the evening passes quickly. Alec works automatically, determined to concentrate on the food and nothing else, but he is still distracted by the sparkly-eyed guest's comments from earlier. They finish up the night with any further incidents, and it is past midnight when Alec and his team finish cleaning and scrubbing down their stations. He heads out into the dining room to find Izzy and Lydia, his restaurant manager, tallying up at one of the smaller tables.

Lydia looks up. "Alec, there you are. Would you be able to come in an hour earlier tomorrow before lunch service, please? There is something I need to speak to you about."

Alec nods and slides into the spare seat next to her. "Of course. I need to talk to you as well. The pa-,"

"Pastry chef position?" Lydia finishes. "Don't worry. I'm confident we will have it filled within the week." She smiles reassuringly at him. "You'll have your sous chef back in no time."

Alec holds back a sigh of relief. He needs Jace back to his usual role as soon as possible, to relieve the pressure off himself and the others, but he's still not a hundred percent reassured. His mind races ahead of himself. Whoever is hired- what if they don't fit in, what if they clash over the menu, what if-- 

"Alec." Izzy looks up from the receipts and lays a hand on Alec's arm. "I can _hear_ you thinking. You know Lydia will only hire the best of the best, and only if they are a perfect fit."

 Alec smiles sheepishly in reply, and rubs the back of his neck tiredly while Lydia and Izzy exchange a knowing look. "Sorry. You know I trust you completely, Lydia. There's just a lot going on right now, what with Michelin and all."

Lydia nods in understanding. "I know, but you have a team here to support you, Alec. You don't have to shoulder all of it yourself. Just do what you do best- cook. Everything else will fall into place, I promise."

\---

Alec enters the restaurant the next day with a thermos of coffee in hand, stifling a yawn. He had trouble falling asleep the night before, even though he's usually exhausted by the end of dinner service. Despite his talk with Lydia, he had still tossed and turned for a while, his mind pin-balling between Michelin, a new pastry chef, and most unexpectedly, a certain blue-haired, sparkly stranger.

The restaurant is filled with daylight and looks like a completely different place from the night before. Most of the tables are bare and yet to be set and Alec loves seeing it like this, like it's a secret world only for his eyes, before the pristine linens and sparkling glassware come out for the big show.

The dining room is empty save for Raphael, the sommelier, behind the bar. The rest of the staff will only be in later to start prepping for lunch, but it seems Raphael has also come in early to do stock-take.

Alec calls out a greeting to him and receives a nod in return. He heads towards Lydia's office but pauses when Raphael calls after him.

"Lydia's in the kitchen. She says to wait out here for her." 

Alec shrugs and drops into one of the barstools, slinging his backpack down into the one next to him. He's not stupid- he's pretty sure Lydia has asked him to come in because she is interviewing a candidate for the pastry chef in the kitchen at this moment. He meant what he said the night before- Lydia had worked as a food critic before managing restaurants- and Alec trusts her taste. But he knows she also likes to have his opinion before she hires anyone, especially for the kitchen, and as head chef, Alec usually has the final say in who gets the job or not.

His suspicions are confirmed a moment later when Lydia steps out from behind the kitchen's stainless steel double doors, a plate in hand. She smiles at Alec in greeting and sets the plate down on the bar counter, holding a fork out to him.

"Taste."

Alec lifts a brow at her with a small bemused smile and takes the fork. He looks down at the dish and studies it for a moment. In the middle of the black plate is what looks like a small meringue, delicate, soft, white swirls tinged with caramelised brown at each tip. Below that, there is an abstract splash of what looks like a yellow custard, a bright contrast against the dark plate, a drizzle of dark sauce and a sprinkle of golden brown crumbs.

Alec lifts the fork and cuts through the dessert, slicing through the soft white cream easily. He isn't surprised to find the ice cream hidden within, and he swipes the forkful through the sauces and crumbs on the plate before putting it in his mouth. Closing his eyes, he savours the flavours and texture on his tongue, trying to distinguish the individual ingredients. 

It is nothing like he's ever tasted. Alec expects the sweetness and burnt caramelisation of the meringue and ice cream but beneath that, there is a little coconut, a hint of coffee from the crumbs and something fragrant, a little grassy and unfamiliar. It all mingles harmoniously, it is fresh yet decadent, sweet yet sophisticated. 

Alec swallows the mouthful and immediately craves another bite. He opens his eyes and finds Lydia watching him closely. Even Raphael has paused in his stock-taking and is now looking at Alec expectantly.

"Well?" Lydia asks.

Alec sets down the fork, and bites his lip. "It's...stunning."

Lydia breaks out in a wide grin. "I knew you would love it."

"That flavour…" Alec starts, "I've never had anything like it before."

Lydia hands another fork to Raphael and gestures for him to try.

"Beautiful, isn't it? It's a Pandan and Coconut Kaya baked Alaska. Flavours of South East Asia married with a traditionally Western dessert. It's genius," she says.

They turn to look at Raphael who is nodding approvingly. Lydia's grin only widens now she knows their notoriously picky sommelier has also validated her opinion and Alec shakes his head in amusement. She claps her hands together once and hops off her bar stool.

"Well then. Looks like we have our new head pastry chef." She smiles at them. "Shall I bring him out to introduce you?"

Raphael rolls his eyes. "The poor guy has been waiting in the kitchen this whole time while we judge his dish like freaking Masterchef?"

Lydia ignores him and heads back into the kitchen. Alec can't resist taking another forkful of the dessert, but he stands and turns as soon as he hears the kitchen doors swing open and close again. 

Lydia enters the dining room and Alec's jaw drops in shock as the man behind her comes into sight. He blinks a few times and he is sure he's currently standing there looking like a gobsmacked fish but he doesn't believe his eyes. 

The beautiful stranger from the night before is the last person Alec expects to see but yet here he is, standing beside Lydia with a small amused smile on his handsome face. He is dressed in a white chef jacket and dark pants, a stark difference from the expensive, tailored outfit he sported last night, but his dark, blue-tipped hair is spiked up and there is a subtle smudge of makeup around his expressive eyes.

Alec, through his shock, absent-mindedly thinks he looks even more handsome in the daylight.

"Alec, meet your new head pastry chef, Magnus Bane."

 


	2. Chapter 2

Alec still cannot believe the most beautiful man he has ever seen is about to join his kitchen team. He is distracted and antsy all through lunch service, almost burning his hand on the grill and snapping more than usual at the commis chefs.  

Lydia announces the news of their newest recruit to the rest of team while they prep for dinner service, and they all respond with cheers. Alec knows they're mostly happy that staffing will return to normal and they wouldn't be worked to the bone any longer once Magnus starts the next week. Jace in particular cannot hide the look of relief on his face, and despite Alec's current anxious state of mind, he shares a knowing smile with his sous chef, knowing Jace is just as impatient as he is to go back to his usual role and leave the pastry station to someone more capable.

Izzy whips out her phone almost immediately and proceeds to Google Magnus, despite disapproving glances from Alec. She makes excited noises as she finds an article online, Clary and Simon huddling close and reading over her shoulders.

"Very impressive! Great choice, Lydia!" Clary exclaims. 

Alec resists rolling his eyes at his _saucier_ 's antics, but he shoots a small smile at Lydia when she catches his eye with a wink.

"Definitely impressive. Top of his class at _Le Cordon Bleu_ London, most recently head pastry chef at The Ritz Paris," Izzy reads aloud. "He's a looker too, isn't he?" She looks up at Alec with a suggestive smile and he pointedly ignores her, heading to his station to start sharpening his knives. 

"Alright, alright. That's enough, you'll all meet the man on Monday," Lydia says. "Let's get back to work, guys."  

The kitchen bursts into a flurry of activity as they return to prep. Saturday nights are usually even busier than Friday and Alec takes a moment to step into his small office space at the back of the kitchen before service starts. He flops down on his chair and his eye catches a folder on the corner of his desk. He reads Lydia's handwriting on the post-it stuck to the front asking for his secondary signature and opens it to find Magnus Bane's offer of employment. 

Alec closes his eyes and leans back in the chair, feeling like his brain might explode. He thought a bit of weight would be lifted off him once they hired a pastry chef, but of course Lydia had to go find the most beautiful pastry chef in the world. Alec groans aloud, cursing his life. He was attracted to Magnus Bane- there's no question about it. He thinks one would have to be blind and deaf not to be attracted to him. And not only is he attractive, he’s accomplished, competent, talented, and seems genuinely likeable- everything Alec could ever want, basically. 

Alec sits up with a sigh. He hurriedly signs Magnus' contract and closes the folder, placing it back on the desk and determinedly pushes all thoughts of the pastry chef out of his mind. There's no way anything could ever happen. Alec is renowned around the city as a strict chef- and he's strictest when it came to workplace romances. It's out of the question for anyone within the same restaurant to date each other- a rule he set himself from his first week as head chef- and one he re-enforced on his entire team. It is messy, distracting and just isn't done in a professional kitchen. 

Especially now, when he has more important things to deal with. There is a third Michelin star out there for him to win, for him to prove The Institute's place as the one of the best restaurants in the world. With that in mind, Alec stands and heads out into the kitchen, ready for another busy service. 

-

Magnus enters The Institute on Monday morning, and is immediately greeted by Lydia, who is seated up at the bar with a stunning brunette woman.

"Magnus, good to see you!" Lydia hops off the stool and makes her way down to the main dining floor, her heels clicking on the marble steps. "Welcome to your first official day!"

Magnus smiles at her as she reaches out to shake his hand. The brunette follows behind Lydia with a playful smirk. "Welcome to your new home, more like it. Seeing as we spend more time here than we do in our actual homes."

Lydia laughs. "Magnus, meet our maitre d', Isabelle Lightwood."

"Lovely to meet you," Isabelle says, extending her hand for Magnus to shake with an easy smile.

"Likewise, my dear," Magnus replies, liking her immediately. "Lightwood...are you related to the head chef?"

"Big brother," Isabelle confirms with a nod. 

Magnus raises a brow. "Good looks run in the family, then."

Lydia hides a chuckle and Isabelle's grin widens as she turns to her manager and declares, "I like this one."

Lydia takes Magnus into the kitchen, and he feels himself relaxing as he takes in the familiar surroundings. It is empty, the wide stainless steel counters gleaming under the sunlight streaming in through the large windows and skylight. Lydia shows him to the small staff room in the back, where everyone has a locker to keep their personal belongings, and hands him his new uniform.

"I'll leave you to get dressed, and I'll have Alec meet you in the kitchen. He'll give you the full tour," she says, and shoots him an encouraging smile before closing the door.

Magnus nods his thanks and changes quickly into the all-black chef's uniform, the Institute's logo embroidered in silver on the upper right side. Heading back into the kitchen, Magnus immediately sees Alec Lightwood standing at the main station, his back toward him. Magnus closes the staff room door silently behind him, taking a moment to watch the head chef. 

Magnus wasn't sure what to expect when he came in to dine at The Institute on Friday evening. He had heard stories about Alec Lightwood, and had done his research before his first interview. The head chef's resume had definitely impressed him- heading a 2 Michelin-starred restaurant at such a young age could only be achieved by someone truly talented, and Magnus has no doubt about the chef's skills after his meal at the restaurant. The other stories had all come from Ragnor, Magnus' close friend and old mentor, who had moved to New York a few years earlier and currently ran a trendy and popular bistro in the West Village.

"I heard he's an absolute monster in the kitchen," Ragnor had stated with his usual bluntness when Magnus had called him before the interview. "My sous tells me The Institute can't hold onto any of their apprentices because Lightwood breaks them all within the first week."

Magnus had rolled his eyes. The people in the industry tended to be more on the dramatic side and he had worked long enough in the restaurant world to know most stories were exaggerated. Besides, the kitchen isn't for everyone- a place where pressure runs high and tempers run hotter. But Magnus knows he could hold his own against the worst of them.

Still, he wasn't expecting the man who had appeared at his table on Friday. Alec Lightwood was - well, absolutely delicious. Tall, with a messy head of dark hair, his all-black chef uniform only accentuating his pale features, wide hazel eyes and strong cheekbones. Magnus had thought he was adorable, the way he had nervously stood there looking like a soldier at attention while Magnus complimented his food. Magnus hadn't been able to resist throwing in a flirty remark before leaving, and it was absolutely worth it to see the head chef's reaction.

There was no way Ragnor's stories were right.

\--

"Chef Lightwood."

Alec starts and drops the knife he was sharpening, almost slicing open his hand in the process. He turns sharply and comes face to face with his new pastry chef. Magnus Bane is standing in his kitchen, looking sexier than he had any right to be in his new black Institute uniform.

Alec clears his throat. "Chef Bane. Welcome." 

Magnus smiles. "Please, call me Magnus."

"Um," Alec mumbles, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "In that case, call me Alec. We're all pretty informal in the kitchen."

Magnus throws him a playful smirk and Alec feels his heart speed up. "Short for Alexander?"

"Well...yeah, but no one really calls me that," Alec says. "It's a bit of a mouthful."

"It suits you," Magnus replies with a wink and Alec supresses a groan. _Life is so unfair._

"Uh well...you can, if you want. I mean. You know- call me what-whatever is comfortable for you." Alec feels his cheeks start to heat and he turns to put away his knives. "Um...why don't I show you around?"

Magnus has to bite his lip to hold back a grin. Alec was just too cute. 

They're in the middle of the kitchen tour when the back door flies open and Jace and Clary tumble in, both already dressed in their chef uniforms. They call out hellos to Alec, and Clary bounds over, grinning at Magnus.

"Magnus, this is Clary Fray, our _saucier_ , and Jace Wayland, my sous chef," Alec introduces. 

Clary shakes Magnus' hand enthusiastically. "It's so nice to meet you, Magnus."

"Very nice to meet you too," Magnus replies, charmed by the petite redhead.

Jace comes around to exchange handshakes with Magnus next, and says cheekily, "I heard you didn't like my bread."

He ignores Alec's warning look, and Magnus has the decency to look a little guilty. "Yeah, about that. That was a little unfair of me, considering I knew you guys were down a pastry chef."

Jace laughs easily and leans back against one of the counters. "No harm done, Bane. Trust me, no one is happier than I am to leave the bread baking to the professionals. But I'm keen for a lesson if you're ever up for it."

Magnus nods agreeably. "Of course, I'll be happy to."

"Alright, let's start prep, Jace. I'm sure Magnus needs some time to get set up before service starts," Clary cuts in, pulling on Jace's sleeve.

Alec helps Magnus set up his station and there are flurries of introductions each time another staff member arrives. Magnus is quietly confident he is able to make all the desserts on the Institute's menu perfectly- Lydia had emailed him the recipes during the interview process, and he had practiced most of them at home. 

Soon the kitchen is abuzz with activity as they get closer to the lunch hour. Alec has left Magnus to prep once he is reassured the pastry chef has everything he needs. Magnus is also introduced to his pastry commis, a slim blonde boy named Sebastian, who seems quiet and reserved compared to most of the kitchen staff. They prep together in silence, Magnus glancing up every so often to keep an eye on the time.

Magnus looks up as the kitchen doors swing open and Lydia steps in, followed by Isabelle, Raphael, Simon and the rest of the wait staff. He watches with interest as the kitchen quietens down, and Alec steps up to the front and begins to talk through the specials for the day. Magnus is impressed, and begins to understand just why Alec is as successful as he is. Alec seems more in his element than ever, the entire kitchen silent and listening intently to him. He doesn't need to speak loudly, but his tone is confident and assuring, holding the attention of the room.

Soon enough, lunch service begins and Magnus takes a moment to pause and watch the kitchen work around him. He knows he won't be properly busy for a good half hour or so, as the guests will order and eat entrees and mains before they even think about dessert. Magnus is impressed by the smooth operation of the kitchen. It is chaotic, but in a good way. Shouts are thrown across from station to station, chefs running around, but in a practiced manner which shows they have been working together for a while. His attention is most often caught by Alec, who mainly stays at the front, plating and inspecting every dish that goes out, and once in a while circling through all the stations and making sure everyone is doing their job correctly, calling out orders in an authoritative voice. The head chef's face is a mask of stern concentration, and it is like he's a completely different person from the almost shy, awkward Alec he first met.

Soon Magnus is too busy to be watching everyone else. He gets stuck into his job, moving comfortably around his station as he reverts into almost auto-pilot mode, and runs systematically through all his tasks in his mind, Sebastian silent but efficient by his side. Magnus takes a moment to watch as one of his desserts is carried out by a server who stops by Alec for him to inspect the dish before it leaves the kitchen. He is pleased when Alec nods approvingly and then looks up and catches his eye from across the busy kitchen. Magnus shoots him a smile and wink, stifling a laugh when Alec flushes slightly in reply and returns busily to his counter.

Lunch service flies past, and the team clean up and scrub down after closing. They have a few hours break now before they have to start prepping for dinner, and Magnus is contemplating whether to head home for a quick nap when Alec appears by his station.

"Hello Alexander,” Magnus greets him, setting down the metal bowl of bread dough he was wrapping up.

“Hey,” Alec replies with a small smile. “How did you find everything?”

“Good. Busy, but that’s how I like it,” Magnus answers honestly. “I hope my dishes were up to standard.”

Alec laughs a little and relaxes, leaning a hip against the station. “They all looked great.”

“Well, the truth is in the taste test, my dear,” Magnus says.

Alec huffs out a quiet laugh. “If they were anything like that baked Alaska of yours, I’m sure they were all amazing.”

Magnus looks up with a dazzling grin. “You do know how to flatter a chef, darling.”

Alec blushes at the pet name, looking down at his feet and Magnus is amazed by the difference in Alec’s behaviour, compared to the head chef who had taken charge of the kitchen mere moments ago.

“Erm…speaking of which, I would like to try out your Alaska as our dessert special for tonight’s service,” Alec says. “If it’s okay with you.”

Magnus smiles delightedly. “Of course, Alexander! I would be honoured.”

Alec returns his smile. “Great. Let me know any special ingredients you need and I’ll have Toby from pantry run out and grab them.” 

Magnus snags a pen and order pad from a nearby counter and scribbles down the few ingredients he’s pretty sure the Institute’s pantry doesn’t stock. He passes it to Alec, who nods in confirmation and murmurs his thanks, shooting Magnus one last small smile before he heads out into the dining room.

\--

Magnus does head home during the break and has a shower and quick power nap before going back to the Institute. He comes into the kitchen, finding a few chefs already there starting prep. They look up and greet him with polite nods and smiles, and Magnus returns them and heads to his station. His smile widens when he sees the ingredients needed for his baked Alaska laid out neatly on his countertop.

Alec comes in with Jace a few moments later, and the staff in the kitchen call out greetings to the two chefs. The next hour or so, the kitchen is its usual state of pre-service business as the rest of the team arrives. Magnus is pre-occupied with prep and also running through the baked Alaska recipe with Sebastian, and he looks up when Alec takes his place at the front of the kitchen to go through the specials again, more for the benefit of any evening wait staff who didn’t work earlier in the day. He then announces Magnus’ baked Alaska as the dessert special, catching the pastry chef’s eye across the room and acknowledging him with a small nod.

Dinner service passes in a blur, and Magnus is pleasantly surprised when he receives a lot more orders for the baked Alaska then he had anticipated. He is so busy, he is almost taken aback when the clock hits 11pm and the others start to wind down and scrub their stations around him. Magnus stifles a tired yawn as he and Sebastian start cleaning up. He’d had a bit of a break between his last job in Paris and starting at the Institute, and his body is still getting used to the long shifts and physical strain. He is wiping down the steel countertop when he hears Jace call his name from across the kitchen.

“Bane! Lydia wants to speak to you in the dining room.”

Magnus nods at the sous chef in reply and heads out, wiping his hands on his jacket. He comes into the quiet dining room and finds Lydia and Alec seated at one of the tables. The head chef looks as exhausted as Magnus feels, his large hands wrapped around a steaming mug.

“Magnus, take a seat!” Lydia calls out warmly, and Magnus shoots her a smile as he slides into an empty chair.

“How was your first day?” she asks. “Have we worn you out already?”

Magnus shoots her a cheeky wink. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

Lydia laughs. “Well, I just wanted to say you did a great job today. We were both very happy with your dishes. Your baked Alaska in particular received many compliments tonight.”

“It’s true!” Izzy calls out from a few tables over where she has a pile of receipts and credit card machines spread out in front of her. “Simon and I don’t ever recall getting that many comments on one dessert.”

Magnus looks up to find Alec looking at him with a small, tired but genuine smile.

“In fact,” Lydia continues, “I would like you to come up with a brand new dessert menu for The Institute.”

Magnus raises his brows in surprise and returns his gaze to the restaurant manager. One day on the job and he gets to write a whole new menu already? With all the stories he had heard about The Institute, he had resigned himself to cooking their tried and tested recipes for at least half a year before he even got to introduce something different.

Lydia seems to read the expression correctly on his face and laughs lightly. “Magnus, you have years of experience in some of the top kitchens in the world, and you came highly recommended from people I trust completely. We wouldn’t have hired you if we didn’t believe in your vision.”

Magnus is speechless for a moment, but he recovers quickly enough to nod and give Lydia a charming smile. “Well…thank you. I would be an idiot to say no, then.”

Lydia grins in delight. “Great. Then it’s settled. As you know, the restaurant is closed on Wednesdays, so feel free to come in and use the kitchen during any of your down time. Alec will work with you to make sure everything fits with the rest of the menu, so I’ll leave it in both of your hands.”

With that, she stands and bids the two chefs goodnight, heading over to Izzy’s table. 

- 

Alec collapses into a chair across from Lydia with a tired sigh, setting down a mug of hot tea on the table in front of him.

Lydia catches his eye over the top of the laptop she’s typing busily on.

“How did you find Magnus today?” she asks without any further preamble.

Alec pauses and fiddles with the handle of his mug. He had watched the pastry chef closely at work today during any spare moment he had during the busy service. Being Magnus’ first day in the kitchen, Alec had anticipated he would need to step in or send an extra commis to lend a hand at pastry.

But Magnus had exceeded all his expectations and impressed him thoroughly. Despite working with a brand new kitchen, team and menu, Magnus had taken charge of his station, working quickly with a quiet air of confidence. Alec had been captivated watching the pastry chef, his nimble fingers moving with practiced ease, shaping and adding finishing touches on his intricate desserts. And of course all that had made him look more attractive than ever, but Alec firmly pushes that thought out of his mind with a small shake of his head. 

“He was…very capable,” Alec replies.

Lydia nods. “I thought so too. And it was a good call to try out his Alaska.” She pauses before looking back down to her laptop.

“I want him to re-write a new dessert menu,” she says.

Alec sits up and frowns. Lydia grimaces, as though she had already expected that exact reaction from her head chef.

“Lydia- is that really wise? We could have Michelin coming in at any time- any changes now could throw off the team—,”

Lydia huffs out a quiet sigh and closes her laptop shut, resting her hands on top of it.

“Alec, do you trust me?”

He casts his eyes up to the ceiling and then looks back at her with a raised brow. Alec had met Lydia when they were both students at the Culinary Institute. She was one of his closest friends, practically family, and it was under her management that the Institute had won its second star, and Alec’s first as head chef. He knew there was no way they could win the third without her.

“You know I do,” he replies simply.

She smiles. “Then trust that this is the right decision. Magnus is innovative, his dishes are fresh and new. It might just be the extra thing we need for that third star.”

Alec wraps his hands around his warm mug and studies the table top. He still feels uneasy with the decision, but unexpectedly his mind wanders back to the moment he first tasted Magnus’ baked Alaska. He is conflicted-on one hand, he is quite confident they could win the third star if they kept everything the same. But on the other hand- Lydia could be right. She had never steered them wrongly before and Magnus’ dishes could give them an edge to wow the Inspectors.

Alec clears his mind with a quick shake of his head. He’s over-thinking again- something Izzy and Lydia always give him grief for.

Maybe it _was_ time for a change.


	3. Chapter 3

 

“Alexander, try this.”

Alec turns to find Magnus standing closely behind him, holding out a small metal spoon. Alec reaches out to take it and tastes it carefully, slowly letting the sorbet melt on his tongue.

Magnus watches him closely, and grins as Alec nods in approval. “It’s good. Maybe a little less sweet.”

Magnus hums in agreement and returns to his workstation.

The restaurant is closed for the day, and the two chefs have the whole kitchen to themselves, working on the new dessert menu. Alec is seated at the main counter, pouring over Magnus’ collection of hand-written recipes, making notes on what he thinks might or might not work.

He glances up to watch Magnus work at his station, the pastry chef moving around so fluidly it almost looks as though he were dancing. He had rolled up his sleeves of his chef jacket earlier, revealing strong forearms, and his hair is not as styled as it normally is, with soft blue-tipped strands falling across his forehead as he frowns in concentration while plating up a dish. 

Alec bites his lip and tears his eyes away as he looks back down at one of Magnus’ notebooks, filled with elegantly scribbled handwriting.

Alec is screwed -so screwed. With every additional minute he spends with the pastry chef, it becomes harder and harder to deny his growing attraction to him.

 _Well, it’s just a crush, that’s all_ , Alec thinks to himself, _I’m a grown man, he’s my colleague and I can control myself._

His thoughts are interrupted as Magnus sets down a plate on the counter in front of him, perching himself on the stool opposite Alec’s. Alec takes the offered spoon and glances down at the dessert. It’s absolutely lovely, a delicate pale pink sphere filled with a white yoghurt foam, purple and pink crystallised flower petals scattered artfully around the green glass plate. 

Alec’s spoon hovers over the dessert. It’s so pretty he’s hesitant to ruin it, although his mouth is watering in anticipation of tasting another one of Magnus’ creations.

Magnus meets his eye with a knowing look and smirks. “I know it’s even prettier than I am, Alexander. But we’re not going to get anywhere if you’re going to behave like this with every one of my desserts.” With that, he reaches out with his own spoon and promptly cracks through the dessert, popping the spoon into his mouth.

Alec rolls his eyes and helps himself to a spoonful. Again, his eyes drift close as he savours the mixture of flavours of cassis, elderflower and plum. His appreciation must be written all over his face, because when he opens his eyes Magnus is watching him with a small, pleased smile. “It’s one of my favourites, took me countless late nights to perfect it though.”

Magnus stands and stretches his arms, wincing as he twists to crack his back. Alec sympathises, today was supposed to be their off day but they had both come in to work on the new desserts. 

“We’ve been at it for a while, why don’t we take a break and then continue?” Alec suggests. As if on cue, Magnus’ stomach grumbles audibly and the pastry chef grins sheepishly as Alec laughs.

“Alright, we’re in agreement then. You’ve been doing most of the work all morning, so let me cook lunch,” Alec says, pushing his stool back and standing.

He isn’t wearing his chef gear, so Alec grabs a spare apron and ties it on, heading to the pantry. He decides on a simple, no-frills spaghetti Bolognese, something quick and easy but heartening enough to keep them going for the rest of the day.

“And here I thought I would have to take you on at least one date before you cook me a meal, Alexander,” Magnus teases lightly as he pours them each a glass of sparkling water, grinning as Alec sets the dishes down on the counter. “But I was hoping it would be breakfast,” he adds with a cheeky wink.

Alec snorts in exasperation but despite himself, he feels his heart speed up. He wonders if Magnus notices the effect his harmless flirting has on him. 

Magnus digs in and moans appreciatively around a mouthful of pasta. “Delicious.”

They eat in companionable silence for a while, before Magnus speaks up. “This reminds me of the family meals we used to have at one of my old restaurants back in London.”

Alec makes an inquisitive noise. “Family meal?”

Magnus smiles wistfully and sets down his fork. “A running joke we had. Before every dinner service, the chefs would take turns to cook up something for the whole team- usually something really easy but filling, seeing as we don’t get time to have proper breaks once service starts, and everyone would crowd around a counter and eat together. Someone said that we spend so much time together, we were like a big family, so the name stuck." 

Alec nods with a slight lopsided smile. “That sounds nice.”

“Do you guys do anything similar here?”

Alec thinks for a moment, and shakes his head. “Not really. I think most of us just eat at home before we come in.”

“Maybe you could try it sometime,” Magnus suggests, and Alec looks up to meet his gaze. There is sunlight streaming in from the overhead skylight and it catches on Magnus’ muted bronze eyeliner.

“Maybe,” Alec murmurs, and he is rewarded with a warm, dazzling grin from Magnus.

\--- 

The next couple of weeks fly past as Magnus quickly settles into his new routine. His shifts at The Institute keep him busy most days, and he works on the new dessert menu whenever he has time to spare. 

He enters the restaurant one Friday afternoon, anticipating a busy night ahead of him. He heads to the staff room, his mind so distracted with a particular recipe he wants to try for the new menu, that he doesn’t immediately notice the couple making out on the small couch in the corner.

Simon and Raphael fly apart and stare at him, the former guiltily, the latter with his usual bored expression.

Magnus raises an amused brow at the pair, and says, “Well I didn’t see that coming, but good for you guys.”

Simon jumps up from the couch. “Magnus, please don’t tell Alec!” he exclaims, sounding panicked.

Magnus turns sharply from where he is stuffing his bag into his locker. “Why, are you cheating on him?”

Raphael snorts loudly from the couch and Simon’s eyes widen so much, Magnus is worried they might fall out.

“What!? No!” Simon exclaims. “I mean- not that he isn’t good-looking, he is- if you’re into that. He’s just not really my type and besides--,”

Magnus holds up a hand to cut off his ramble, and Simons trails off sheepishly. Raphael finally stands up and steps forward.

“It’s because Alec forbids relationships between any team members in the restaurant,” he states matter-of-factly.

Magnus raises his eyebrows. “Really.”

Simon nods. “Yes, and I don’t want to get fired, Magnus! I mean, Raphael could find another job easily, but do you know how many people are competing for waiter jobs in New York?”

Magnus suppress a snort despite himself. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been making out in the staff room where anyone could have walked in then.”

“Oh, Alec never comes in here, it’s fine,” Simon says.

Magnus frowns as his mind suddenly casts around and lands on the sous chef and certain red-headed _saucier._ “Hang on, but I thought Clary and Jace were a couple, are they not? If not, they certainly behave like one." 

“Oh, they are,” Simon replies easily without thinking. He then gasps loudly and slaps both hands over his mouth. “Fuck! I should not have said that! Jace is going to kill me with his meat cleaver!” 

Raphael rolls his eyes and takes Simon’s arm, gently pulling him toward the door. “Come on, _querido_ , let’s go before you reveal the secrets of the entire kitchen.”

Simon pauses, turning back to Magnus with pleading eyes. “Magnus, please. You won’t say anything, will you? About us, or Clary and Jace?”

Magnus shrugs, but shoots him a gentle smile. “It’s not my place to say anything. What you guys get up to in your personal time is your own business. But word of advice? Maybe don’t use the staff room as your personal love nest next time? Others may not be as kind as I am.”

Simon nods fervently as Raphael steers him out into the kitchen, giving Magnus a nod over his shoulder. Magnus shakes his head in slight amusement and closes his locker door. _No relationships, huh? Well, that was a damn shame._

-

A week later, Magnus and Alec finally finish writing the new dessert menu. Magnus can’t help but feel a flutter of pride as they present it along with the new dishes to Lydia one morning pre-service. The now-infamous Pandan and Coconut Kaya Baked Alaska is now on the permanent menu, along with Magnus’ pretty pink Cassis and Elderflower Bombe.

Raphael has also provided a list of recommended wine and liquor pairings for the new desserts, and even surprises Magnus with coming up with a new pandan-flavoured cocktail inspired by the baked Alaska. Magnus is delighted and declares it his new signature drink.

Lydia is thrilled with the new menu and approves it immediately after a couple of tiny adjustments. She calls a staff meeting the following day, and both kitchen and front of house teams gather in the dining room in the break between lunch and dinner service.

“As you all know, we are currently attempting to win our third Michelin star,” Lydia says, standing in the middle of the dining floor and flanked on either side by Alec and Izzy. “And so I thought I would have Izzy run through what we should be on the lookout for, so everyone is on the same page.”

She nods at Izzy, who takes a step forward and begins to speak. “Michelin is only guide that matters when it comes to restaurants. They send their inspectors to eat and award stars at the most premier restaurants around the world. One star for very good, two for excellent, three for exceptional.” She pauses and casts a glance over the team.

“We do not know, or receive any advance notice for when the inspectors come- and of course they are all completely anonymous. That being said, they have a set routine they stick to, to give every restaurant the same chance.”

Here Izzy looks over at the wait team pointedly. “I suggest you take notes for the next part.”

“Michelin inspectors eat in pairs. They always book a table before seven-thirty. The first arrives earlier and has a drink at the bar. His or her partner arrives half an hour later. One will order the tasting menu, the other a la carte. They order half a bottle of wine, they ask for tap water, they wear business suits and they are polite. But pay attention- they may place a fork on the floor under the table to see if you notice. Place, not drop, because that could cause a noise and make it too easy.”

“I expect everything from now on to be perfect. Not good, not excellent. Perfect.” Everyone turns to look at Alec, who speaks up and gazes out at the gathered staff with a stern frown.

Lydia clears her throat and gives Alec a short nod. “With the launch of our new dessert menu, and to give us a chance to practice for Michelin, I have invited the New York Times’ food critic to dine with us this coming Thursday evening.”

There are nervous murmurs around the room and a few people shuffle around in their seats.

Lydia holds up a hand. “There’s no need to get excited. Just stay focused and do what you do. The results will speak for themselves.”

She pauses and quickly glances down at her phone.

“One last thing before we get back to work- Simon and Raj, I’ve arranged a temperature check for you two next Wednesday. Lunch at Bangkok Brothers, 1pm,” Lydia says.

Simon and Raj, their grill cook, nod in reply and there is a scrape of chairs against the floor as everyone stands.

Magnus turns to Clary in puzzlement as they head back into the kitchen. “What’s a temperature check?”

“Every so often, Lydia will arrange for two or three of us to try out a restaurant around the city. It’s so we can sort of scope out any competition, but also to get a chance to see how another restaurant runs or does things differently,” Clary explains.

Magnus nods, impressed by Lydia’s style of management. He has worked for restaurants before where the managers and head chefs were so fiercely competitive to the point where they had forbidden any of their staff to even step foot in a rival establishment. Magnus appreciates that Lydia understands they could learn from other restaurants, competition or not.

“Why is it called a temperature check?” Magnus asks.

Clary shrugs. “Some inside joke from Lydia’s time at hospitality school, I think. We just go with it. Basically, we get a free fancy meal on the Institutes’ expense account, and then report back.”

She giggles at Magnus’ raised brow. “It’s not like Lydia expects an essay or anything. Jace, Simon and I usually snap a few pictures and make a few notes, but others like Alec and Raphael take it a bit more seriously.”

Magnus bites back a smile as he is reminded of the food critic in _Ratatouille_ , one of his favourite films. A mental image of Alec pops into his mind, seated at a table with a fork in one hand and a pen in the other, hovering over a pad and ready to make notes on the dish.

Back in the kitchen, he heads toward his station, where Sebastian is already getting started on prep. Magnus goes to the pantry to look for more baking powder and finds Alec in there, arms crossed and frowning while he studies the shelves. He turns as Magnus enters.

“Oh Magnus—I was just about to come and look for you.”

Magnus gives him a charming smile. “Well here I am, my dear. How can I help?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking of what you told me the other day- you know, about your family meals,” Alec starts, his hand coming down to fiddle with the edge of his jacket. “I spoke with Lydia and she thought it was a great idea. So I was wondering if you wanted to help me cook the first one tonight.”

“Alexander!” Magnus claps his hands together delightedly. “I can’t believe I won the employee suggestion box! Is my prize a date with the handsome head chef?”

“You’re incorrigible.” Alec snorts and shakes his head. “Since you’re so good at suggestions, why don’t you think of what we can cook.”

“Hmm,” Magnus studies the shelves for a moment, eyes landing on a bag of rice. “What about all-in fried rice? Throw in a bit of everything, use up all the odds and ends.”

Alec wrinkles his nose. “Everything? Will that taste good?”

Magnus laughs and hoists down the sack of rice, depositing it into Alec’s arms. “Come on, chef. Let’s put those two stars of yours to good use.”

.

There are looks of confusion from the others when Alec sets down the huge pan of fried rice on the main counter.

“What’s all this?” Clary asks, coming over and sniffing appreciatively. “Is it someone’s birthday?”

“Family meal!” Magnus calls out, bringing over a stack of plates. “Everyone pull up a stool and dig in.”

“I heard something about free food?” Simon calls out as he enters the kitchen followed by the wait team.

Magnus chuckles and hands him a plate. “Help yourself.”

“Amazing! I’m starving,” Simon exclaims. “Is this gonna be happening every day? Because if it is, I’m not going grocery shopping tomorrow.”

“We’ll try our best to,” Alec says. “I guess it’ll be nice if we could.”

Jace arches his brows at him. “Who are you and what have you done with my head chef?”

Alec gives Jace a deadpan look. “It’s yours and Clary’s turn to cook it tomorrow.”

Jace shoots Clary a wink. “We’ll do PBJs.”

“Like hell you will,” Izzy says around a mouthful of rice. “I want something just as good as this, or better.”

Alec huffs out a laugh and catches Magnus’ eye over the commotion at the counter. Magnus’ lips curl up in a small smile and he mouths _Told you so_ at Alec.

Alec rolls his eyes but he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face and the flutter of warmth that bursts in his chest.

\--

“One seabass, one pappardelle, two filet mignons, one medium, one well done!”

“Who the fuck orders filet mignon well done--,”

“CLARY! I need the béchamel, NOW!”

The stress levels in the kitchen are higher than usual on Thursday evening. Alec had come in at nine in the morning with an anxious yet terrifying scowl which has not left his face since. If Magnus wasn’t so busy at his station he would have found it hilarious how the commis chefs try their best to become invisible each time the head chef even glances in their directions.

Magnus concentrates on his orders, trying to tune out the shouts from the other chefs in the background. He swiftly finishes up plating a dessert and pauses to swipe at his forehead with his sleeve as one of the servers whisks it away.

Izzy comes into the kitchen, the metal doors swinging wildly behind her as she hurries in and thrusts an order slip at Alec. “She’s arrived. Table fifteen.”

“Scallops and the duck,” Alec calls out, reading the order. He looks at his sous chef. “Jace-,”

Jace nods without even looking up from the flaming pans at his station. “I’m on it.”

“Raj! Get the duck started now,” Alec orders, “Don’t take your eyes off it for one second.”

“Yes, chef.”

Izzy returns a few moments later with Simon at her heels, a large silver tray in his hands. Alec and Jace are standing side by side at the main counter, both hunched over and frowning in concentration as their hands move quickly, plating up the dishes. With one last garnish and a swipe around the dish, Alec gently pushes it across the counter to Izzy, who loads it onto the tray. He then turns to glance down at the scallop dish Jace is finishing up, and after a quick nod, it is placed onto the tray as well. Alec exhales and leans against the counter, watching the dishes being carried out.

“Out of our hands now, bro,” Jace says, slapping Alec on the back as he returns to his station.

.

“Magnus! Table fifteen- one bombe, one sorbet.”

Magnus looks up and nods at Izzy, who has come in again with the dessert order for the critic. He quickly finishes up the dish he is plating, then gestures to Sebastian to prepare the sorbet while he gets started on the Cassis Bombe. Magnus ignores the tiny flutter of nerves in his stomach and calms down by reminding himself he has made this dessert countless times before. With a steady hand he finishes up, carefully placing one last crystallised flower petal on the top of the bombe.

“Service!” Magnus calls out and a server swoops in within seconds, taking the dishes to Alec at the front of the kitchen for inspection. There is a tense moment as Magnus watches Alec study the dishes, and Magnus lets out a breath as Alec nods and sends the server out with a wave of his hand. 

Everyone seems more exhausted than usual by the end of service, and Magnus dreads to think what the kitchen will be like when the Michelin inspectors finally come, if the pressure was already this high for just one critic. A few of the others are still tiredly scrubbing down around him when Magnus finishes up and heads toward the staff room, shrugging out of his chef jacket and looking forward to collapsing into bed.

He leaves through the back exit of the kitchen, coming out into the quiet alley behind the restaurant. Magnus takes a deep breath, inhaling the cool, fresh air, his eyes drifting shut for a moment.

“Hey.”

Magnus starts a little, and turns to see Alec leaning against the wall by the kitchen entrance. His chef jacket is unbuttoned, revealing a fitted dark grey t-shirt underneath. The tip of his lip quirks up in a tiny smile.

“Alexander. Busy night, huh.”

Alec huffs, bringing a hand up to rub tiredly over his face. “You can say that again.”

Magnus chuckles. “An old mentor of mine used to say, ‘There’s always an end to every shift’. It’s always helped get me through even the toughest service.”

“Yeah, until we come back and do it all again tomorrow,” Alec says with a wry smile, arching a brow.

Magnus laughs softly. “We wouldn’t do what we do unless we loved it.”

Alec sighs, wrapping his arms around his middle and gazing wistfully toward the restaurant.

“That’s true,” he murmurs. He turns to look back at Magnus. “I should let you get going, you must be tired too.”

Magnus wrinkles his nose. “I’m very tempted to splurge on a cab home, to be honest. If I take the subway, there’s a ninety percent chance I will fall asleep and miss my stop.”

“Let me give you a ride,” Alec offers immediately.

Magnus shakes his head, laughing a little. “Alexander, Brooklyn is totally out of your way.”

“No, it’s fine,” Alec insists, “Besides, what’s the point of having a car in the city if I can’t help out a friend once in a while?” He is already heading toward the kitchen entrance. “I’ll grab my stuff, meet me at the restaurant entrance in two minutes?”

-

Halfway through the journey home, Magnus is trying to concentrate on not falling asleep. He burrows deeper into the soft leather seat, the movement of the car beneath him steady and soothing.

Alec is driving silently by his side, once in a while reaching out to fiddle with the radio dial on the dashboard, switching through different channels. Magnus can feel himself starting to drift off, and startles awake when Alec speaks up.

“How do you it?”

Magnus turns to look at the chef, who flicks a quick glance at him before returning his eyes to the road.

“Sorry, did I miss the first part of the question? I think I fell asleep for a second there.”

Alec smiles, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t. That was just me being unclear.” He sighs and pauses before elaborating.

“I mean, in the kitchen. You always seem so…calm and under control. Like you could do anything without even breaking a sweat.”

Magnus is silent for a minute before he answers. “Alexander, I learnt a long time ago that you can’t control everything. In the kitchen, in life - whatever. Fuck-ups happen, people make mistakes. Life has other plans. Sometimes things are out your hands, and you can’t do anything except stand back and watch it happen.”

He huffs out a sigh and shakes his head. “I don’t know. I guess that’s my roundabout way of saying, sometimes you have to trust that some things are just meant to be. So there's no use wasting my energy worrying or stressing about it.”

Alec is quiet for a few moments. “Is that your way of telling me to stop stressing out about Michelin?”

Magnus chuckles. “Of course not. Michelin is a whole other level of stressful. I still remember my first time having to cook for a possible Inspector. I don’t think you would still be calling me calm if you saw me back then. I was shaking so hard I could barely plate the dish. Ragnor, my old mentor, practically force-fed me a shot of vodka before pushing me back to my station.”

Alec snorts in amusement. “He sounds interesting.”

Magnus smiles fondly. “He gave me first job out of school in London, and taught me everything I know.”

He looks at Alec, shooting him a cheeky wink. “You never forget your first, you know?”

Alec rolls his eyes in exasperation, but there is a small smile on his lips.

“Alexander, get your mind out of the gutter, I meant your first _job,_ ” Magnus teases, giving him a fake-scandalised look.

Alec laughs out loud, and he feels the stress of the day start to melt away. They continue the ride in an easy silence and before long Alec is pulling up in front of Magnus’ apartment building. He turns in his seat and finds Magnus asleep next to him, his head leaning against the car window.

Alec’s breath catches in his throat as he studies the pastry chef. The street lamp from the sidewalk is shining into the car, catching on the slightly shimmery makeup on Magnus’ eyelids. He looks impossibly soft and sweet, and Alec is aching to reach out to brush the blue-tipped strands of hair off his forehead.

With a soft sigh, Alec places a hand on Magnus’ shoulder instead, leaving it on there a beat too long as he feels the warmth of his body through his thin shirt. Alec shakes him gently and pulls back when he starts stir.

“Magnus, we’ve reached.”

“Oh.” Magnus sits up and blinks a few times. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Alec smiles at him. “It’s okay. Go on up and get some rest.”

“Thank you for the ride.” Magnus turns to face him, giving him such a warm smile that Alec feels his heart stutter in his chest.

He shakes his head. “It was no trouble. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Magnus taps at the digital clock on the dashboard, neon letters displaying the time of 1:16am. “You mean, see you later today. Perks of our job, huh?” Magnus chuckles softly and hops out, before turning back and crouching down to peer at Alec through the car window.

“Drive safe, Alexander,” he calls out, blowing him a kiss accompanied with yet another wink. Before Alec can reply, he turns and heads up the stairs into his building.

Alec sits in his car for several minutes before he can pull himself together to drive home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I copied that entire Michelin speech from the movie Burnt. Heh.


	4. Chapter 4

Izzy flicks open the newspaper to the food section, quickly scanning through the page for the restaurant review as the others crowd around her.

“Four stars!” she cries out, skipping right to the bottom of the article for the rating.

Magnus breathes out a sigh of relief he doesn’t realise he’s holding. Four stars is the highest possible score for the New York Times.

Jace lets out a loud whoop as the others start to cheer and applaud. Lydia looks ecstatic and beams at the rest of the team. “Well done, everyone!”

Magnus looks up to see Alec’s reaction. The head chef is standing to the side of the counter with his arms crossed across his chest but has a small smile on his face. Izzy is still scanning through the article and Magnus turns his attention back to her.

“Magnus! She says the new desserts are inventive and confident,” Izzy reads out. “Continuing to delight and surprise even the most discerning palate, The Institute cements its place as one of New York’s finest dining establishments.”

Simon thumps Magnus on his back happily as Lydia gives him a pleased nod. “Keep up the great work, guys.”

Magnus grins. “Why don’t we go out and celebrate tomorrow night, seeing as we’re all off?” he suggests. “My best friend is the manager at Pandemonium, I can ask her to reserve us a table.”

“Ooh, I’ve been dying to go there!” Izzy squeals. “Finally, someone here is giving me the VIP treatment I deserve.”

Magnus gasps in mock indignation. “Darling, you deserve to be treated like a queen every day.”

“I knew I liked you for a reason,” Izzy replies with a wink.

- 

“Big brother, it wouldn’t hurt you to loosen up for one night,” Izzy says, nudging Alec, who is seated by her side, staring at the bottle of beer in his hands with a small furrow in between his brows.

He shakes his head and manages a small smile. “Sorry Iz, I just have a lot on my mind.”

Izzy snorts and roll her eyes. “Right. Head chef at the city’s top restaurant, just received a perfect review from the Times, has the best maitre d’ in the world. What else could you possibly be worried about now—and I don’t even want to hear the word Michelin come out of your mouth tonight,” she quickly adds, holding up a hand as Alec starts to speak.

“Well, good evening everyone!”

They both turn to see Magnus, who appears at their second-floor booth at the busy nightclub.

Alec’s mouth drops open slightly as he takes in Magnus’ appearance. He is now so used to seeing the pastry chef in his black uniform at work, he had almost- almost forgotten just how stunning Magnus could look dressed up.

Magnus is dressed in a dark red shirt, unbuttoned at the top to show off his toned chest and a collection of mismatched necklaces. His eye makeup, more dramatic than usual, sparkles under the flashing lights of the nightclub, and when he catches Alec’s eye and smiles in greeting, Alec has to focus all his attention on remembering how to breathe.

Izzy hides a knowing smirk behind her cocktail glass as she eyes her brother’s expression. “Never mind,” she mutters, “I think I know what was on your mind now.”

Izzy hops out of the booth and greets Magnus with a hug.

“Take my seat,” she says, “I was just about to go find the others on the dance floor.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Magnus replies, and he slides in next to Alec as Izzy heads downstairs. He turns to the head chef.

“Alexander, don’t you look handsome tonight,” he says, “Although darling, do you have anything in your closet that isn’t black?”

Magnus reaches out and plucks at the sleeve of Alec’s leather jacket. Alec shrugs.

“Fashion is not really my strong point,” he mumbles.

Magnus rests his chin on his hand and tilts his head. “I guess it doesn’t matter when you’re as gorgeous as you are.”

Alec laughs out loud and shakes his head, trying to fight down a blush. “Do you ever stop flirting?”

Magnus fixes him with a serious look, all the teasing suddenly disappearing from his expression. “Do you want me to?” he asks softly.

Alec looks up and meets his eyes and his breath catches. He opens his mouth slightly, and he is surprised by how much he wants to answer no.

“Whew.”

They are interrupted and their gaze breaks when Clary flops down into the booth, followed by Jace. “It’s packed out there!”

Alec clears his throat and blinks, looking across the table at them.

“Magnus! This so fun, thank you so much for arranging all this,” Clary exclaims. “We don’t hang out enough outside of work.”

“Because we already spend sixteen hours a day with each other,” Jace says teasingly with a wide grin.

“It’s my pleasure, biscuit,” Magnus replies warmly. “Anyway, I should probably go look for Catarina and thank her for reserving us this space before she kicks us out.”

He slides out of his seat, and Jace waits until Magnus disappears down the stairs before turning back to Alec.

“Sorry, did we interrupt a moment there?” he asks, shooting Alec an apologetic look.

“Wha- what?” Alec stammers. “No, I –we were talking about work!”

Jace raises a brow at him but quickly changes the subject, while Clary looks between them in confusion.

.

“Cat, why does he have to be so beautiful?” Magnus whines, “And tall, and talented, and so  _sweet_ and-,”

Catarina rolls her eyes and sets a martini glass on the bar counter in front of Magnus. “I thought Ragnor said he’s horrible and mean in the kitchen?”

Magnus huffs. “You should know better than to listen to anything that old grump says. What chef doesn’t yell, or lose his temper once in a while in the kitchen?”

He takes a sip of the drink as Catarina comes around to the front of the bar and perches on the stool next to him.

“Magnus, isn’t this all a moot point, anyway? You already said Alec doesn’t allow relationships at work,” she says. “So I suggest you keep it in your pants before you get fired from one of the best jobs you’ve ever had.”

“Yes, darling, but can you blame me?” Magnus turns in his stool and gestures up at the second-floor balcony of the club, where Alec is seated with Jace and Clary, now joined by Izzy and Lydia. “Look at him! Why can’t he just _stop_ with his- his tall-ness and beautiful face?”

Catarina snorts, shaking her head but looks at Magnus fondly. “I’m so happy you’ve moved back to New York.”

Magnus returns the look, melting into a smile. “Me too, darling. It’s good to be back with my family.”

He reaches out and wraps her in a hug, holding her tight for a moment.

“Erm, Magnus, don’t look now, but your tall beautiful chef is walking toward us,” she whispers in his ear.

Magnus pulls back and spins around to see Alec making his way through the crowds towards the bar. He catches Magnus’ eye with a small hesitant smile.

“Alexander! Meet my best and oldest friend, Catarina Loss,” Magnus says, grabbing Cat’s hand and swinging it between themselves.

“Pleasure to meet you, chef,” Catarina says, reaching out to shake Alec’s hand. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things about your restaurant.”

Alec ducks his head. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you too. And thanks for arranging the table for us tonight.”

Cat laughs, “Anything for Magnus. I know how hard you guys work, you deserve one night off to cut loose.”

They are then interrupted by one of the bar staff who comes hurrying up to Catarina with an anxious look on his face. “Cat, we have a situation in the men’s bathroom on level two.”

Cat rolls her eyes and sighs. “Excuse me boys, duty calls.” She squeezes Magnus’ shoulder as she departs, mouthing _Call me later_ at him.

Magnus nods in reply, and chuckles in amusement as he hears Catarina mutter, “If this is another vomit situation, I swear to god-,” as she walks off.

Alec takes the seat Catarina vacates, and gestures to the bartender for another beer.

“Sorry, I had to get away from the table,” Alec says. “Jace and Izzy have started a Never Have I Ever drinking game with the others.”

“Sounds like the party’s getting started,” Magnus laughs, reaching for his glass again. “Well good, now I get you all to myself.”

Alec flushes slightly, looking down and playing with the label on his beer bottle. “I don’t know if I’m much good company tonight, to be honest.”

Magnus shifts closer to hear him over the loud music and noise of the club, and Alec’s breath hitches as he feels the warmth of Magnus along his side.

“What’s wrong? Is there something on your mind?” Magnus asks, sounding concerned.

Alec shakes his head, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck.

 _Yes, my biggest problem is fast becoming the fact that I am hopelessly attracted to you and want to jump your bones so badly right now,_ he thinks.

“It’s nothing,” Alec replies quickly. “I- I think the stress of the last couple of weeks is just catching up to me. And Michel--,” Alec shuts his mouth abruptly, shooting Magnus a sheepish glance. “Sorry. Izzy made me promise not to say the M-word tonight.”

“You would think a four-star review in the Times would ease your mind a little, Alexander,” Magnus says in a gently teasing tone and placing a hand on Alec’s arm. “Relax, darling! You’re a wonderful chef. The M-word will happen when it happens, and you will perform brilliantly as always.”

Alec huffs out a short laugh, glancing at Magnus with an arched brow. “I think you’re overly confident in my abilities.”

“Nope,” Magnus replies, shaking his head decisively. “I believe in you. And besides, I heard the best pastry chef in the world works in your kitchen.”

Alec finally laughs out loud, shaking his head, and Magnus looks back at him, eyes shining affectionately.

Alec stares back at Magnus in the dim lighting, beautiful and ethereal under the flashing lights, and momentarily it seems as though the rest of the nightclub and crowds disappear around him, the music fading to a subdued buzz in the background.

Realisation hits him like a truck, and with a lurch in his stomach he thinks, _I’m falling for him._

From the moment Alec had first laid eyes on Magnus he had known he was like no one else he had ever met. The one on one time they had spent together in the last few weeks working on the new menu had only cemented Alec’s feelings for the pastry chef, and Alec had just fallen deeper with every one of Magnus’s warm smiles, winks and flirty, teasing comments.

His mind flashes to a few days back to the kitchen during a busy dinner service, when he had randomly glanced toward the pastry station. Magnus was working efficiently as usual, a look of calm concentration on his handsome face as he meticulously ran a blowtorch over one of his baked Alaskas, his hands moving in smooth practiced movements. Just watching him work had relaxed Alec, and when Magnus looked up and caught his eye as he often tended to do when Alec inspected one of his dishes, he had shot him his trademark wink and smile, and Alec had not been able to ignore the way his chest had seized.

Alec can’t breathe.

He stands abruptly, pushing the bar stool back with a clatter. “I- I have to go,” he says, fumbling in his pocket for some money to pay for the beer.

Magnus frowns. “What? Are you alright? Alexan--,”

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” Alec mutters, not meeting his eyes. He turns and makes his way out of the club, trying to ignore the fact that he can feel Magnus’ eyes on his back.

Alec is in the cab on the way home when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulls it out and sees the screen flash with a text from Magnus.

_Are you sure you’re alright? Izzy is asking where you went._

Alec sighs and looks at the screen blankly for a few moments before typing out a reply.

_I’m ok. Sorry, I have a headache and we have work tomorrow, just wanted to have an early night. I’ll let Iz know._

He grimaces as he hits send. It's the lamest excuse in the book, but he’s too shaken to come up with anything else. He types out a quick message with the same excuse to his sister, not even caring that she would immediately see right through it. He would deal with that later. As he sends the text to Izzy, his phone buzzes again with Magnus’ reply.

_Ok. Sweet dreams, Alexander :)_

Alec lets his head drop back on the car seat and he screws his eyes shut, resisting the urge to groan out loud.

_What was he going to do now?_

-

“Izzy! Did you see the new temperature check schedule Lydia just sent out?”

Alec barges into the small office space Lydia and Izzy share, and Izzy looks up, unperturbed, from her computer screen.

“Yes, Clary and I are having dinner at _Dumort_ in a few weeks, why?”

Alec slumps into Lydia’s empty chair opposite her, running a hand through his hair. “Did you see the check for this week?”

Izzy frowns and clicks on her email, bringing up the schedule. “You and Magnus are scheduled to have dinner at _Il Bacaro_ this Wednesday night. Why, are you panicking because you have a massive crush on him?”

“I don’t--,” Alec starts replying automatically, but then pauses and groans, putting his head in his hands. “Fuck. Is it that obvious,” he mumbles through his hands.

He looks up at Izzy, who is staring at him sympathetically. “To me, yes. You should see the way you look at him, big brother. That other night in the club, I swear to god I could almost see the heart emojis in your eyes.”

Alec flushes and scowls at her. “You can stop now.”

Izzy giggles, leaning back in her chair. “Sorry,” she says, not sounding apologetic at all. “Why are you freaking out? It’s just dinner. Maybe you could even use it as a chance to…get to know him better.”

“I- I can’t let anything happen between us. We’re co-workers,” Alec says stubbornly.

Izzy fixes him with a look, arching a perfectly sculpted brow. “Maybe it’s time you consider getting rid of that rule of yours.”

Alec matches her look perfectly, crossing his arms. “That rule is there for a reason, Izzy.”

She huffs out a sigh and shakes her head. “And that reason is ancient history. Maybe you shouldn’t be letting it get in the way of a shot at happiness.”

.

Alec frowns as he methodically runs a chestnut over a mandolin slicer, still thinking about his earlier conversation with Izzy. He is in an especially foul mood, what with it being a fully-booked Friday night with one of their chefs calling in sick for dinner service, and the whole situation with Magnus lingering in the back of his mind.

“Alexander.”

“What?” Alec snaps without thinking, irritation colouring his voice.

He turns to see Magnus at his side, holding a bowl of pasta. Alec sighs and shakes his head, letting the slicer drop onto the countertop.

“Magnus. I’m sorry. I just- sorry. My mind was elsewhere.”

Magnus gives him a gentle smile. “It’s fine.” He sets the bowl down. “I thought you might want something to eat before service starts.”

Alec glances over Magnus’ shoulder, where the rest of the team are gathered for the evening family meal, laughing and chatting loudly amongst themselves.

“Thank you,” Alec says. He scoops a forkful of pasta into his mouth, then picks up the slicer again, continuing with the chestnuts as he chews.

“Do you need any help? We’re almost done with prep for pastry, so I can lend a hand,” Magnus offers.

Alec flicks a glance to the pastry station, where Magnus’ commis is working intently, piping filling onto a large tray of macarons. He shakes his head, pausing again to eat another bite of pasta in between chestnuts.

Rolling his eyes, Magnus takes the slicer out of his hands, ignoring Alec’s noise of protest.

“For god’s sake, Alexander. Just eat your dinner, I’m sure I can handle slicing a few chestnuts.”

“I still have to de-bone the seabass,” Alec mumbles, hurriedly shovelling pasta into his mouth.

 Jace comes up from behind him. “I’ve got Sam prepping the fish, Alec. Relax, one man down is hardly any drama. Don’t you remember that time last year when the flu went around the entire kitchen, and we still managed to pull through with practically half the team comatose.”

“Please don’t remind me,” Alec says with a shudder, superstitiously knocking on a nearby wooden chopping board. “The last thing I need right now is a repeat of that fiasco.”

Despite Jace’s reassuring comments, the evening’s service does not get off to a great start. Within one hour of opening, Simon comes in the kitchen carrying a half-eaten appetiser, and Alec holds back a groan. That was never a good sign.

“She says it’s too salty,” Simon states, setting the dish down in front of Alec.

“Well, she still ate half the bloody thing, didn’t she?” Jace says, one brow raised at the plate.

Alec grabs a fork and takes a bite of the dish. In one swift move, he dumps the entire contents of the plate into the bin by his feet, then carelessly tosses the plate and the fork onto a nearby tray, where it lands with a loud clatter.

“Make a new one,” he says.

“Alec—,”

“ _I said_ , make a new one!”

Jace rolls his eyes ceiling-ward, but slams a fresh pan down onto his station to get started on the dish.

Alec returns his attention to the dish he was plating before he was interrupted, Simon still hovering by his counter.

“Tell her we’ll comp the appetiser from her bill,” Alec says, his eyes not leaving the dish.

“Seriously? It wasn’t ev-,”

Alec glances up at him, and Simon takes one look at the expression on his face and turns on his heels, scuttling out of the kitchen.

.

“Magnus.”

Magnus looks up to find Simon standing by his station, holding one of the desserts he had just sent for service a minute ago.

“Alec said to re-plate it,” Simon says in a hushed tone. “Sorry, he’s in one of his moods tonight.”

Magnus looks toward the front of the kitchen, where Alec is hunched over a line of dishes with a deep frown. Magnus doesn’t argue, taking the plate from Simon, who shoots him a sheepish look before hurrying off.

Sebastian wordlessly passes him the container of cocoa powder he needs, and Magnus spares a second to glance up at his commis, nodding in thanks. Over the last few weeks of working together, they had slowly figured out a rhythm between themselves, even though Sebastian barely speaks a word to him.

Magnus carefully scrapes the dessert off the plate, and grabs a fresh one to re-plate the dish.

“What the fuck is this!?”

Magnus starts as he hears Alec’s shout from the front of the kitchen, his voice piqued with anger, and he looks up to see the head chef sweep another dish into the bin, this time plate and all, and it smashes loudly when it hits the bottom.

The commis chef he is scowling at is already hurrying back to his station and Magnus frowns as he watches Alec huff out an exhale, muscles in his forearms flexing as he braces himself, leaning against his countertop.

The other chefs continue working busily around him, barely paying attention to his outburst as though they are used to his behaviour.

Simon appears again by the pastry station to collect the dessert, and seems to read Magnus’ mind with one look at his face.

“Don’t take it personally,” he whispers, as he gestures down to the re-plated dessert. “It’s just a bad night.”

“Do those happen often?” Magnus mutters.

Simon raises his brows. “I think it’s the first one since you’ve started. Hey, you’ve lost your Angry Alec virginity!”

“Oh darling, that isn’t the kind of virginity I want him to be taking,” Magnus jokes lightly, and Simon's anxious expression relaxes into a laugh, the tension releasing from his shoulders.

Magnus hands him the new dish with a wink and Simon smiles gratefully at him, heading back again toward the head chef.

.

Alec disappears into his tiny office the minute dinner service is over, and he stares blankly at his computer screen with a hot mug of tea in his hands. A knock sounds at his door, and Izzy steps in without waiting for a reply, closing the door behind her and coming up to his desk with her arms crossed.

“Spit it out, whatever it is that has you in such a hideous mood, and had two of my girls almost in tears tonight.”

Alec looks up at her with a stubborn frown, and Izzy huffs exasperatedly in response, perching herself on the edge of his desk. “Alec, if this is about Magnus, you have to get that under control. I can’t have my wait staff threaten to quit because you can’t keep your feelings in check.”

Alec rubs his hands over his face tiredly, too exhausted to even argue or hide anything from his sister. “Fuck- Izzy. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

“Easy. Go have dinner with Magnus, tell him how you feel, sleep with him and relieve some of that tension.”

Alec throws her a hard look and she bursts out laughing, before shaking her head. “Alec, I can’t tell you what to do. I know you have feelings for him, but it’s up to you whether or not you want to act on them.”

She stands with a sigh and exits his office, leaving Alec alone with his thoughts once more.

\--

Alec looks down at his watch as he crosses the street, the Italian restaurant coming into view. The nerves fluttering in his stomach that had started from the moment he woke up in the morning had not abated and he tries to calm his racing heart as he reaches the restaurant entrance, his hand nervously coming up to smooth down his sweater.

Alec had panicked earlier while getting dressed for the dinner with Magnus, and after exchanging several increasingly frustrated texts with his sister, Izzy had finally taken pity on him and dropped by his apartment. Alec had sat on the edge of his bed, watching silently as she rifled through his closet.

“Seriously, it’s like looking into the void,” Izzy mutters as she flicks through his collection of black shirts and jackets.

In the end, she tosses him a pair of slim black jeans and a soft charcoal sweater that was a gift from her from last Christmas.

“ _Il Bacaro_ is smart casual,” she says, “Just keep it simple.”

Alec mutters his thanks, and Izzy drops down onto the bed next to him.

“Okay Alec, I can tell you are having an internal panic attack,” she says. “Can you please relax, you’re going to dinner, not war.”

“Izzy, what if-,”

“What if, nothing,” Izzy cuts him off sternly. “It’s a temperature check. Just calm down and focus on the dishes if you start to spiral. Food is what you do best, right?”

Alec nods and shoots Izzy a thankful smile as she pushes him toward the bathroom to get dressed while nagging him to do something with his hair.

.

Alec approaches the maitre d’ station as he enters the restaurant. He takes a moment to look around, and his heart sinks. _Thanks a lot, Lydia_ , he thinks as he takes in the cosy, warm décor. There are rows and rows of wine bottles lining the perimeter of the room on sleek wooden shelves and the little tealight candles on each table flickers in the dim lighting. The whole place screams romance and the butterflies in Alec’s stomach multiply tenfold.

“Good evening sir, welcome to _Il Bacaro_.”

Alec manages a tight smile at the maitre d’. “Alec Lightwood, I have a reservation for two.”

She glances down at her screen. “Perfect, Mr Lightwood. The other party is already here. Follow me.”

She leads him into the dining room and toward a small table by the window where Magnus is seated, already studying a menu.

Magnus looks up and smiles as Alec slides into the seat across him.

“Sorry I’m late,” he mutters, accepting the menu from the maitre d’.

“I wouldn’t call three minutes late, Alexander,” Magnus replies, and Alec slowly inhales, trying to control his breathing as he finally looks up at him.

Magnus is wearing a fitted, patterned navy shirt, his eyes lined with bronze, shimmering on his golden skin and when he turns his head Alec’s eye catches on several delicate silver cuffs adorning his ear.

“So, how does this work?” Magnus asks. “Should I have brought my high-definition camera to take photos for Lydia?”

Alec snorts, relaxing a little at Magnus’ familiar teasing tone. “No, it’s nothing that elaborate. Maybe just make a few notes on the dishes, the presentation, the service. Whatever stands out to you.”

Alec opens the menu and scans through it, making a mental note of any dishes that sound interesting. When he looks up, Magnus is watching him with a small smile, his menu closed in front of him.

“You already know what you want?” Alec asks.

Magnus nods. “Yes. If there’s parpadelle cinghiale on the menu, I have to order it.”

Alec frowns, wracking his memory and trying to remember the Italian term. “Wild boar? How come?”

Magnus grins. “Because I had the best parpadelle of my life one drunken night in Florence, and have spent the years since trying to find something of its equivalent to fill the void it left in my heart.”

Alec chuckles. “Maybe you could write to the restaurant and ask nicely for the recipe?” he suggests.

Magnus sighs, resting his chin on his hand. “I would if I remembered where it was or what it was called. Catarina and I had had quite a few drinks and we stumbled upon this tiny trattoria tucked away in a little back street. They didn’t even have a menu, Cat used what little Italian she knows and asked them for their best dish and they brought us the most divine parpadelle with wild boar ragu.”

Alec watches him in mild amusement as Magnus stares into the distance with a faraway look, a small smile on his lips.

“Sounds amazing,” Alec says. “I’ve always wanted to go to Italy.”

“It’s the best country,” Magnus replies, blinking as he snaps back to reality. “I can’t even begin to describe the food. I spent a month travelling around Tuscany, learning to make pasta and hitting up every food market I could find. You would love it there.”

Alec blushes slightly and looks down. “I’ve never actually left the US, apart from one school trip to Mexico,” he admits, a little embarrassed.

Magnus chuckles. “Well, you have been busy winning Michelin stars left and right, so I suppose you have a good excuse.”

When their food arrives, Alec takes out his phone, setting it down by his plate and opening the notes app, so he could be ready to make any comments on the dish to pass on to Lydia and the team, or to keep for his own records.

Magnus stifles a laugh, clapping a hand over his mouth a second too late. Alec looks up at him questioningly.

Magnus shakes his head, bringing up his napkin and hiding a giggle behind it. “I’m sorry. When Clary first told me what a temperature check was, I imagined you pulling a total Anton Ego with the whole pen and pad, and here you are actually doing it.”

Alec frowns in confusion. “What’s an Anton Ego?”

The smile disappears off Magnus’ face and his mouth drops open slightly. “ _Ratatouille_? The food critic?”

Alec shrugs, still nonplussed, and Magnus gasps softly.

“Alexander, please tell me you have watched _Ratatouille_.”

Alec raises a brow, his hand still hovering over his phone. “What is it, like a TV show? About French cooking?”

Magnus sighs. “Oh, my dear. I have so much to teach you. It’s a masterpiece of a film, and I will be showing it to you soon, no arguments.”

With that, Magnus picks up his fork and tucks into his dish. Alec watches him expectantly, waiting for a reaction.

“Well?” he asks tentatively, after Magnus swallows the first bite. “Have you found a match?”

Magnus wrinkles his nose slightly. “It’s good, but still not good enough.” He sighs. “The hunt continues.”

They settle into a comfortable silence as they eat, once in a while making a remark about the food or the restaurant. Alec still has a few nerves fluttering in his stomach, but as usual Magnus’ easy and engaging conversation puts him at ease. When the server offers them the dessert menu, Magnus suggests they share a couple of desserts between themselves and Alec agrees after a split second of hesitation. He couldn’t ignore the fact that the evening had seemed more like a date than any other dinner he’d ever been on, and he wonders if Magnus is thinking the same thing.

.

After dinner, Alec decides to walk with Magnus to the subway station. He had taken a cab to the restaurant, and despite his earlier panic, Alec can’t help but feel a stab of disappointment as he realises he doesn’t want the evening to end just yet.

The night is mildly cool, and the city rushes around them in a blur as they set off at a leisurely stroll toward the nearest station. They take a shortcut through a small park, and the air is quieter in there, the traffic noise muted in the background and the skyscrapers towering over the trees, sparkling against the night sky.

“I love walking through the city at this hour,” Magnus muses softly. “Paris and London are beautiful in their own way, but there’s nowhere like home.”

Alec hums in agreement. “You still see New York as home, then?”

Magnus nods, and looks thoughtful for a moment. “I’ve spent so many years living in different cities all over the world, and it was incredible, don’t get me wrong. Then a few months ago back in Paris, I was walking home from work at two in the morning. I passed by the Eiffel tower while it was doing its sparkly light show. It was so beautiful, but I could only think of one place, the place where I feel most at home. It made me realise how homesick I was, and so I made the decision to move back.”

Alec flicks a glance at Magnus. “Where is that place?”

Magnus smiles fondly. “The Brooklyn Farmer’s market. I grew up down the street from it, and some of my earliest and happiest memories are following my mother there at the break of dawn while she shopped for supplies. She was a cook, too.”

“She must be very proud of you,” Alec says, his lips curling up in a smile as he imagines a young Magnus excitedly exploring the busy food market.

“I like to think that she would be.” There is a slight pause, until Magnus speaks up again softly. “She passed away a few months before I moved to London to start culinary school.”

Alec’s breath hitches, and he feels terrible. He stops in his tracks and turns to face the other man. “Oh- Magnus. Shit, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have-,”

Magnus cuts him off with a gentle wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Alexander, you didn’t know.”

He wraps his arms around himself and glances to the side, a pensive look on his handsome face. Alec still feels horrible, and he looks down at his shoes, scuffing a foot into the pavement.

“So, where is yours?”

“Hmm?” Alec glances up and finds Magnus studying him.

“The place you feel most at home.”

“The Institute’s kitchen,” Alec replies immediately, and Magnus chuckles in reply, shaking his head in amusement.

“I wouldn’t have expected anything else, chef,” he says, a light tease in his voice, and Alec flushes slightly, ducking his head.

.

“Alexander.”

They had fallen back into silence again as they make their way through the park, and just before they reach the exit, Magnus speaks up again.

“I asked you a question the other night in the club. You didn’t get a chance to answer.” Magnus stops walking, looking at him with a serious expression. “Do you remember what it was?”

Alec turns to face him, and his heart stutters in his chest as he takes in the look on Magnus’ face. The pastry chef looks back at him unwaveringly, a slightly hesitant look in his eyes.

He knows exactly what question Magnus is referring to, and Alec nods slightly, not trusting his voice to be steady enough to answer. Magnus takes a tiny step closer to him and Alec’s breath hitches, and he’s sure Magnus notices.

“What is your answer, Alexander?” Magnus prompts him, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alec can’t tear his eyes away from Magnus. He is suddenly very aware of everything around him, how close Magnus is standing to him, the flecks of glitter around his expressive eyes, the still silence of the park suddenly broken by a car that drives past.

Alec shakes his head minutely. Outside of the kitchen and the restaurant, everything seems different, and he can’t bring himself to deny his feelings any longer.

“No,” he breathes, “My answer is no. I don’t want you to stop.” 

Something in the air shifts between them and Magnus comes even closer to him, bringing up a hand to curl around Alec’s bicep. His eyes are still fixed on Alec’s face and Alec’s gaze flicks down to his lips and back up again.

“Alexander,” Magnus whispers. “I know you have a certain rule in the kitchen…and I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. But please, just tell me I’m not the only one who feels this way.”

“You’re- You’re not,” Alec manages to murmur, his heart jumping into his throat. “But Magnus, I--,”

Alec is acutely aware the longing and attraction he feels is written all over his face, but his breath is taken away as he realises the same expression is mirrored in Magnus’ eyes. His words die in his mouth. Alec’s arms move up on their own accord to gently wrap around Magnus’ waist, pulling the other man closer to him and he fights back a shudder, marvelling at how _right_ Magnus feels in his arms.

Magnus tilts his head up to meet his gaze and Alec instinctively leans down, their breaths mingling as their lips inch closer and brush together ever so slightly.

Alec screws his eyes shut, and unexpectedly an image of the restaurant’s kitchen comes flooding into his mind.

It takes everything in him to pull back, drawing in a deep inhale as he leans his forehead against Magnus’, breathing hard.

“Magnus, I’m sorry.”

His hands are still on Magnus’ back and he grips the other man's shirt tightly in his fists for a second before he lets go and takes a step back. He shakes his head slightly, and he feels a dull ache throb in his chest as he sees a flash of disappointment in Magnus’ eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t do this.”

Alec turns and walks out of the park, and it feels like the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, longest chapter yet and yay these two are finally getting somewhere. Thank you to all who left kudos and such lovely comments on the last chapter. I hope you're enjoying it. x  
> P.S- I made up the Brooklyn farmer's market-does such a thing exist? Where do chefs shop in NYC??


	5. Chapter 5

Alec leans back against the shelf, his eyes drifting close as he savours the silence of the pantry. He allows himself a few seconds of peace, before straightening up and shaking his head, starting to gather ingredients for the family meal he and Jace are supposed to be cooking tonight.

It has been a week since his and Magnus’ temperature check at the Italian restaurant and the moment they had shared in the park. Alec’s heart still pounds in his chest whenever his mind drifts back to that moment, which happens more often that he would like. He can still remember with startling clarity the warmth of Magnus’ body pressed against himself, the soft look in his eyes, the heart-stopping moment Magnus had declared his mutual feelings for him.

 The pastry chef had returned to work the next day after their dinner as his normal charming self, behaving as though nothing had happened. Alec knows Magnus had taken Alec’s rejection as confirmation that he wasn’t ready to break his rule, and he also knows Magnus is professional and kind enough to respect that. Still, Alec can’t ignore the way his chest seizes each time their eyes happen to meet across the kitchen, or when he hears Magnus’ warm laugh as he jokes around with the rest of the team.

The door to the pantry flies open suddenly and Alec starts, dropping a packet of fresh rosemary on the floor as Magnus walks in.

“Oh. Hello, Alexander,” Magnus shoots him an easy smile as he brushes past Alec in the small space, heading straight to a shelf at the back to grab a box of sugar.

“Hey,” Alec mumbles in reply. He picks up the herbs, suddenly aware of the very tiny space they were in.

“Everything okay?” Magnus asks, turning to glance at Alec as he heads back out. Alec is still clutching the rosemary to his chest, staring blankly at the shelf of produce in front of him. He nods, and Magnus gives him a small smile, exiting the pantry and closing the door behind him. Alec lets out a shaky exhale as the door clicks shut.

 _Get it together, Lightwood_.

Later, when they are all crowded around the main counter for the evening’s family meal, Izzy turns to Magnus.

“Do you have any plans on Wednesday?” she asks.

Magnus frowns, thinking. “Not that I can think of. Why?”

“Jace won an award in the New York Chef competition a couple of months ago, and it’s the award presentation ceremony this Wednesday night. We usually don’t attend these things, but seeing as it happens to fall on our off day, Lydia arranged a table for the team. Will you come along with us?”

“Darling, who am I to turn down free alcohol and an excuse to dress up?” Magnus replies with a smile.

“Perfect!” Izzy exclaims delightedly.

Alec, seated at the other side of the counter, can’t help but listen in to their conversation and his heart sinks. He had forgotten all about the award ceremony, and vaguely recalls Lydia reminding him about it a few weeks ago. He feels a flutter of nerves in his stomach as he gets up from his stool, placing his plate onto a nearby tray.

He detests industry events, usually leaving Lydia and Izzy to represent The Institute whenever needed. The formal wear, having to make polite small talk with people he didn’t particularly like, the usually bad catered food and slow service- it is everything he dislikes. And now, throwing Magnus into the mix, with the lingering tension between them…

 _Just perfect_ , Alec thinks. _Like I needed another thing to worry about._

-

“So I told her to get the fuck out of my kitchen, and to take her goddamn diploma with her!”

Alec manages a tight smile as the other chef guffaws out a loud, obnoxious laugh. Jace, standing next to him, bites his lip as he unsuccessfully tries to hold back a grimace and Alec catches Izzy’s eye over the man’s shoulder, sending her a pleading look. Izzy slides up to them a couple of seconds later, shooting Chef Robbins a charming smile.

“Chef, I’m so sorry, but Jace and Alec are needed by the event organisers,” she lies smoothly. “I hope you don’t mind if I steal them away?”

“Oh of course, dear,” Chef Robbins says, waving a hand carelessly, his attention already drifting elsewhere. 

“This is exactly why I hate these sort of events,” Alec bites out as Izzy steers him away. “If I have to make small talk with one more person, I’m leaving.”

“How is that sexist pig’s restaurant still in business?” Jace pipes up, following them closely. “Someone should release rats into his kitchen.”

“Calm down, both of you.” Izzy snags two champagne glasses from a passing waiter and presses them into each of their hands. She leads them to the other side of the hotel’s ballroom, where Lydia, Clary, Simon and Raphael are seated at their table. Alec’s eye catches on the empty seat next to his as he slides into his chair, and his heart jumps as he reads Magnus’ name printed in elegant script on the place card. The pastry chef is noticeably missing, and Alec feels a flutter of anticipation waiting for him to arrive.

“Was that Steve Robbins from _Table Nine_ you guys were talking to?” Lydia asks, glancing at Alec.

“Yes,” Jace answers for him. “And he’s still as disgusting as ever.”

Simon pulls a face. “I know a couple of the wait guys there. Let’s just say the rumours are all true.”

Alec downs the remainder of his champagne and stands.

“I’m going to get another drink,” he says, pushing his chair back and turning to head towards the open bar set up in the foyer outside the ballroom. He leans against the counter as the bartender mixes his drink, letting his mind drift miles away.

“Well, hello handsome.”

Alec feels a shiver run down his spine as the familiar warm voice comes from behind him. He turns slowly, already mentally preparing himself for Magnus’ appearance, and he swears he feels his heart stop as their eyes meet.

Magnus is wearing a dark suit and black shirt, both fitted so well to his body Alec thinks they must have been custom-made just for him. At first glance the suit seems to be black, but as Magnus steps closer, Alec realises it’s actually a dark shade of aubergine, and there is a subtle textured pattern all over it. His makeup is applied as meticulously as always, and his warm honey-toned skin seems to glow luminous under the dim lighting of the hotel’s chandeliers.

“Magnus,” Alec breathes. He doesn’t even care that he is probably staring at him with very obvious hearts in his eyes. “You look…” He drifts off, shaking his head slightly, not able to find the right words.

Magnus shoots him a dazzling smile, his eyes crinkling warmly. “You look very…yourself, darling.”

Alec glances down at his own black suit and white shirt and he shakes his head again, feeling plain and boring standing next to Magnus.

“Nothing compared to you,” he mutters and Magnus scoffs, coming to stand next to Alec at the bar.

“Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror, Alexander,” Magnus asks softly, reaching out to gently straighten Alec’s bowtie. He smooths his hand down the front of Alec’s jacket, and Alec’s breath catches. “I’m certain everyone in this room right now is extremely jealous of me getting to stand next to you.”

Alec silently thinks to himself it surely must be the other way around, as he gazes at Magnus.

.

Magnus takes a sip of his wine as he glances at Alec to his left. The head chef is silently eating, frowning down at his steak as he slices it with more force than needed. Simon is regaling the others with some gossip about another restaurant he had heard from his waiter circle of friends, but Alec barely looks up as they laugh and joke around him.

Magnus wonders what Alec is thinking about. It hasn’t slipped his attention that the chef had been avoiding him at work during the last week. Magnus’ heart had soared the moment in the park when it had become clear Alec reciprocates his feelings for him, but he knows Alec has reasons for not being able to take the next step yet, and so Magnus holds back for now. Despite all that, Magnus couldn’t ignore the ache in his chest when he had first laid his eyes on the head chef earlier in the evening, tall and so handsome in his black suit, and the look in his eyes when he saw Magnus had taken his breath away.

He tears his eyes away from Alec, flicking a glance around the room, and his eyes light up as he catches sight of a familiar figure walking toward their table.

“Ragnor!”

Magnus hops up from his chair, hurrying over to his old friend and wrapping him in a tight hug.

“Alright, alright,” Ragnor says gruffly, but he pats Magnus on the back affectionately. “You’d think we didn’t just see each other a couple of weeks ago.”

“I didn’t know you were going to be here.” Magnus pulls on his arm, tugging him closer to the table, “Come and meet my friends.”

“Ah, the infamous Chef Lightwood,” Ragnor mutters, and Magnus slaps him on the arm, hissing out a _Behave_ as he leads him over.

“Everyone, this is Ragnor Fell, my dear old friend and mentor. He owns _Fell’s Kitchen_ on Perry Street. Don’t let his hideous exterior fool you, he’s as sweet as one of my cakes on the inside really.”

Ragnor narrows his eyes at him, but shakes his head fondly as Magnus begins to go around the table to introduce everyone. He leaves Alec for last, and the head chef stands to shake Ragnor’s hand.

“Chef Fell, it’s a pleasure. I dined at your restaurant recently. Your venison with the pomegranate port reduction was wonderful,” Alec says.

Ragnor raises his brows in slight surprise, and Magnus subtly digs a pointed elbow into his friend’s side.

“Thank you,” Ragnor manages politely. “It’s been many years since I’ve last dined at The Insititute, so I’m afraid I can’t repay the compliment. But I think your two stars speak for themselves.”

“Well, you must come back soon then. As our guest, of course,” Alec offers. He glances at Magnus quickly with a small smile and Magnus returns it with a wink.

Ragnor is still looking at Alec with a raised brow, but he nods and thanks him for the invitation before turning back to Magnus.

“Magnus, may I speak to you for a moment?”

Ragnor leads him a short distance away, and once they are out of earshot of the table he leans in with a serious expression and says in a low voice, “There’s something I have to tell you.”

“What? Is it Alexander? I told you he wasn’t as horrible as you said, right?”

“No, it’s not that. I mean- Lightwood is…not what I expected, but forget that.” Ragnor shakes his head impatiently and fixes Magnus with a stare.

“Camille is here tonight.”

“Oh.” Magnus huffs out a quiet sigh and crosses his arms around himself. “Well. I expected to cross paths with her sooner or later since I moved back. I was just hoping it would be…never.”

Ragnor watches him, his brows knit together sternly, but there is a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Magnus chuckles. “Yes, _Dad._ ” Ragnor gives him a dirty look, and Magnus breaks out into wide grin.

“I’m a big boy now. I can look after myself,” he reassures Ragnor.

His mentor rolls his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his head. “Yes, yes, they all grow up so fast,” he mutters, then looks back at Magnus with a worried frown. “Just be careful, alright?”

.

Once the award presentation is over, the servers bring out dessert, and Magnus is silently critiquing the sub-par dishes in his mind as the others pass around Jace’s shiny new trophy around the table, laughing and chatting amongst themselves.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Magnus Bane. Isn’t this a nice surprise.”

The familiar, sugary sweet voice comes from behind him, and a cold shiver runs through Magnus as he sets down his fork, taking in a deep inhale. He turns slightly in his chair, but doesn’t stand, coming to face the woman behind him, looking beautiful but deadly in a slinky, deep red cocktail dress.

“Camille,” he greets, glad that he manages to keep his voice steady.

“A little bird told me you had moved back to New York,” she purrs, a hand coming up to flutter around the sparkly necklace at her throat. “My dear, I’m a little hurt you hadn’t thought to come visit an old friend.”

“I’ve been busy,” Magnus replies coolly.

Camille flicks a glance around their table, her blood red lips curling up in a small smirk. “Oh yes, I heard you joined The Institute.” Her sharp gaze lands on Alec, and her eyes flash with a dangerous look. “How’s the fight for star number three coming along?”

Magnus doesn’t bother acknowledging her comment and Alec, who has been watching her with a puzzled frown, flicks a hesitant glance at Magnus.

Camille laughs lightly. “Well Magnus, once you get bored at your current…position, you know where to find me.”

With that, she saunters away, and Magnus lets out a deep breath once she leaves.

“She was…pleasant,” Izzy speaks up, although her tone clearly states otherwise.

“That’s an understatement of the century,” Magnus mutters tightly.

“Isn’t that Camille Belcourt, head chef at _Dumort_?” Lydia says, her eyes following Camille with a pensive frown.

“Yes,” Magnus replies, reaching for his wine glass and taking a long drink. “Also known as my ex-girlfriend.”

Clary’s eyes widen in surprise. “You dated her?”

Magnus sighs, his expression flickering into an irritated grimace before smoothing out into small, tight smile. “Yes, biscuit, but let’s not have her ruin our evening any further.”

Simon catches his eye and immediately changes the subject to a new piece of restaurant gossip, and Magnus shoots him a thankful smile.

-

The event is almost drawing to a close when Magnus excuses himself from the table to get one last drink from the bar. He wanders out onto one of the balconies in the foyer space, and gazes out at the sparkling city below as he leans against the balcony railing, savouring the cool air against his face. The encounter with Camille is still lingering in his mind, and he closes his eyes and tries to shut his brain off, feeling irritated with himself that he was still letting the conversation affect him.

It is a few moments later when Magnus feels the presence of another person coming to join him on the balcony, and he already knows who it is even before he looks around.

“Hey,” Alec says softly, coming up to rest his arms on the railing next to Magnus. “Are you alright?”

Magnus gives him a small smile. “I’m fine.” He shakes his head, huffing out a quiet laugh. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting to see Camille tonight, and it looks like she can still get a rise out of me, even though I haven’t seen her in years.”

“Sounds like there’s quite a history there?” Alec starts, then flushes, ducking his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

Magnus turns to study Alec’s profile. The chef is staring out at the city, and Magnus breath hitches as he takes him in, his handsome face serious and a tiny frown between his dark brows.

They are silent for a few moments, both watching the city move below them, before Magnus starts to speak softly.

“Camille and I started dating when we were both students at _Le_ _Cordon Bleu_ in London. She was brilliant- both in the kitchen and out, and I was…well, young and naïve. We had grand plans to move to Paris and open up a little bistro together. Romantic, huh?” Magnus huffs out a wry little laugh and shakes his head. “After we graduated, we both took commis jobs at restaurants in London to save up- that’s when I first met Ragnor.”

Magnus takes a deep breath before continuing.

“Then Camille was offered a chef de partie position at a top restaurant in Berlin. She accepted it without telling me, flew to Germany the next day, and broke my heart.”

Alec’s heart seizes and he feels rage boil in his chest. He wants to storm right back into the ballroom and throw a drink in Camille’s face. He can’t imagine anyone doing something like that to Magnus, who was so pure, kind and generous with his love.

“She doesn’t deserve you,” Alec bites out, and he doesn’t realise how tightly he is gripping the balcony railing until he feels Magnus’s hand come to rest gently on top of his.

“It’s okay, darling. I got over her a long time ago. I’m mostly just angry at myself, that she could still affect me this way.”

Magnus looks down at their hands on the railing, a rueful look on his face.

“When Camille and I first got together, my mother had recently passed away. I was…a mess, to say the least. I was alone in a foreign country, I didn’t know anyone, and she took advantage of it. I was weak, and I let her. I guess seeing her tonight just brought all those feelings back.”

“Magnus.” Alec turns his hand under Magnus’, lacing their fingers together. Magnus’ palm is cool and smooth against his, and he turns to face the other man.

“You are not weak,” he says quietly. “You…you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met. You are so talented, so- so capable, and…” Alec trails off uncertainly, watching Magnus, who is still looking down at their joined hands.

“And you’re the best pastry chef in the world, remember?” Alec says lightly, and he breathes an internal sigh of relief as a small grin finally breaks out over Magnus’ face.

“Alexander.” Magnus turns to face him fully and reaches out with his free hand to place on Alec’s chest, fiddling with his lapel absent-mindedly. “You’re just as incredible yourself, you know.”

Alec scoffs softly, shaking his head. “I’m nothing special,” he mumbles, feeling his face start to heat.

“I think you are,” Magnus replies simply.

Alec feels his heart stutter, and as he meets Magnus’ gaze, he finds the other chef watching him intently, his brown eyes soft and flickering with every emotion Alec feels within himself. Alec unconsciously runs a thumb lightly over the top of Magnus’ knuckles, their hands still joined, and he steps closer to him, his breath catching in his throat.

“Alexander,” Magnus whispers, his eyes drifting close as Alec leans down and rests his forehead against his, soft dark hair tickling against his skin. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” Alec admits in a low voice, sounding wrecked. “But I want this…us, Magnus. God- I want this so badly.”

“You have me,” Magnus murmurs, opening his eyes and looking up at Alec. “Whenever you’re ready…I’ll be here.”

Something shifts in the chef’s wide hazel eyes, an expression of steely resolve flashing for a split second, and Magnus barely has time to gasp out a breath as Alec closes the gap between them and crushes their lips together. Alec shifts even closer, his arms coming up to wrap around Magnus’ waist as Magnus kisses him back, bringing a hand up to the nape of Alec’s neck and deepening the kiss.  

All thoughts flee Alec’s mind as Magnus pulls back slightly to nip gently at his bottom lip. He forgets there is a room full of their colleagues a few steps away, including their co-workers and his sister, who could walk out at any moment and see them. All that matters is Magnus finally in his arms again, the hard lines of Magnus’ body pressed firmly against his.

Alec’s hand comes up to cup Magnus’ jaw, sliding his tongue past Magnus’ lips, tilting his head back gently and kissing him deep and languidly like they’ve been doing it for years, coaxing out a soft breathless moan from the other man. He can’t ignore the warmth and want that fills him, and this time, the kitchen is the last thing on his mind.


	6. Chapter 6

Magnus screws his eyes, rolling over as a ray of bright sunlight hits his face and pulls him from sleep. He groans, rubbing a hand over his face as memories of the previous night comes flooding back into his mind in a sudden rush.

He remembers a cab ride with Alec back to his loft, their kisses becoming increasingly heated and rougher, jackets and shirts being shed as soon as his front door slams shut behind them. Alec’s large, strong hands roaming constantly all over his body, the head chef fluttering hot, messy kisses over his neck, his chest, his stomach, the fire in Alec’s eyes when their bare bodies had pressed together for the first time.

Magnus’ eyes fly open and he jolts upright in bed, his silk sheets pooling around his naked body.

 _Oh god--Alexander,_ he thinks, _I slept with Alexander._

And the head chef was now very noticeably missing from his bed.

Magnus’ heart sinks and he sighs as he looks around his room, not a single trace of Alec left behind. No doubt the other man had woken up earlier and freaked out about breaking his number one rule, slipping out quietly before Magnus woke up. Everything seems different in the light of day, he knows, and Alec must have regretted what happened. Magnus heaves himself out of bed, and he is pulling on a pair of old sweatpants when he hears a muffled thump come from outside in the direction of his living room.

 _Oh, just fabulous_ , he thinks, eyes narrowing. _First Alec is gone, and now I’m being burgled._

Magnus huffs, opening his bedroom door and heading out into the corridor leading to the rest of his apartment. He starts, coming to a sudden stop and mouth falling open as he takes in the sight in his large, open-concept kitchen.

Alec is standing by the stovetop, whisking something in a bowl. He is wearing his shirt and suit pants from the night before, the white shirt wrinkled and untucked, and his dark hair is sticking up in an adorably tousled mess. From the corner of his eye, Magnus notices a black suit jacket slung over one of his dining room chairs. Alec looks up as Magnus recovers and walks slowly toward the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re up,” he mumbles, his cheeks flushing slightly as he gestures at the ingredients laid out on Magnus’ large kitchen island counter. “Uh, sorry…I hope you don’t mind. I kind of ransacked your fridge.”

Magnus manages to pull himself together to give him a warm smile. “Please don’t apologise for making a very specific fantasy of mine come true,” he replies lightly, hopping up to perch himself on one of his barstools at the counter.

“Well, I remember you said once- that you wanted me to cook you breakfast…” Alec mutters, trailing off as his blush intensifies, and Magnus has to fight back a coo. The other chef was just too much.

Magnus rests his chin in his hands as he sits at the counter and watches Alec oil a pan and flick the stove on. “So, what’s on the menu for breakfast then, chef?” he asks, unable to control the wide grin on his face.

“Omelettes,” Alec replies. “You know, for a chef, you don’t keep a lot of food at home. It was either this, or we share a bowl of expired Froot Loops and half an avocado.”

“Don’t cereal-shame me, Alexander,” Magnus teases, and Alec smiles at him, his eyes crinkling warmly.

Magnus sits in silence watching Alec cook, a little frown of concentration on his face as he flips the omelettes expertly in the pan. He feels as though his chest is about to burst with happiness as he gazes at Alec, feeling like it was just the two of them in their own little world.

Alec glances up at the clock on the wall as he slides the finished omelettes onto plates and sets the dishes down on the countertop. “We have a couple hours before we have to be at work.”

Magnus jokingly pulls a mock-annoyed face as he reaches for his pepper grinder. “Oh yes, that little thing.”

Alec pulls up another barstool, sitting down opposite Magnus on the other side of the kitchen island. “Um…and speaking of work, I thought we should probably talk. About…us?” he says, looking hesitantly across the countertop at Magnus.

Magnus hold his breath, feeling his happy little bubble burst. He steels himself for what Alec is about to say. “Oh…yes, I suppose we should,” he mumbles, unable to stop the flash of disappointment flickering across his face.

“No- no, Magnus,” Alec says hurriedly, reaching out and grasping Magnus’ hand. He rubs his thumb soothingly over his knuckles. “I don’t regret what happened last night. Not for a second. It was…amazing.”

Alec ducks his head, looking down at his plate for a moment as a light flush stains his cheeks. Magnus’ lips quirks up in a small smile.

“I meant what I said last night. I want this…us, to be together,” Alec continues, “But, we’re also co-workers, and- and last night I kind of broke my own biggest rule. And I know I’m not the only one in the kitchen who’s broken it, but still, what kind of head chef would I be if I can’t even set the right example for my team by not following the one rule I have?”

“Wait a second. What do you mean…you’re not the only one?” Magnus says warily, narrowing his eyes.

Alec shakes his head, laughing a little. “Magnus, I know Jace and Clary are seeing each other, and so are Simon and Raphael.”

Magnus’ mouth drops open. “What! How?”

“I may be oblivious about some things, but even I can put two and two together,” Alec says, raising a brow. “Jace and Clary arrive at work together more often than not. Once I lost my temper at Clary during service, and Jace gave me the silent treatment for two weeks after that. And Raphael and Simon seem to be under the impression that the alley behind the restaurant is some sort of secret dimension where no one else can see them make out.”

Magnus snorts. He shakes his head, amused despite his shock at Alec’s revelation. “I knew those two were going to get caught sooner or later,” he murmurs. He looks at Alec. “So you knew the whole time, but you never confronted them?”

Alec sighs, long and slow. “I don’t know. I’ve always been so adamant that a relationship could never end well if both parties work together in a professional kitchen. But I could never seem to bring it up with them. They weren’t causing any issues, and they had the decency to at least pretend nothing was going on while at work…well, in Simon and Raphael’s case, most of the time,” Alec says, rolling his eyes.

They fall silent again for a few moments as they both eat their breakfast, and Magnus runs through the head chef’s words in his mind. “Why, Alexander?” he finally says, prompting gently. “What made you come up with this rule in the first place?”

Alec puts his fork down and his hand drops to fiddle with the edge of his plate. “I never told you how I became head chef at The Institute, have I?” he says, his eyes trained on the countertop.

“No,” Magnus murmurs, and he watches Alec, patiently waiting for his reply.

After a pause Alec begins to speak, his voice soft and contemplative. “Chef Hodge was the head chef at the restaurant when I was first hired as a commis. I suppose he was to me what Ragnor is to you,” he says, shooting Magnus a small smile.

“From the first day, he took me under his wing and over the years with his tutelage, I rose through the ranks, eventually becoming his sous chef. Then Hodge started dating our then- _saucier_ , a lady named Diane. They were together for close to a year, becoming pretty serious. Then one day, a few months after we had won our first Michelin star, all hell broke loose.”

Alec huffs out a sigh. “Hodge discovered Diane was cheating on him. He was heartbroken, and he couldn’t bring himself to even step foot into the kitchen to be in the same room as her. He resigned, and I was promoted to head chef into the most screwed-up kitchen possible. The entire team was divided. These were all older staff of course, before Izzy, Jace, Lydia and the others had joined us. Most of the other chefs were loyal to Hodge, and they were resentful toward both me, for taking his place, and Diane, for causing him to leave in the first place. Some of the others took Diane’s side. Apart from the apprentices and commis, no one wanted to take orders from me. With all the tension in the kitchen between everyone, our performance dipped, and when the next Michelin season came around we came very close to losing that star.”

“Diane thankfully left a few months after Hodge, and the rest of them eventually came around, but it still took well over a year for me to prove my worth as head chef and for us to eventually come to some sort of stability as a team.”

Alec falls silent, and his words hang in the air for a minute as Magnus absorbs the story.

“Jesus, Alexander,” Magnus breathes finally.

Alec shakes his head with a rueful look. “By the end of my first week as head chef, I set the rule that there were no relationships allowed between anyone in the team. I thought, no one or no relationship could ever be worth the risk of letting the kitchen fall apart like that again.”

He looks up at Magnus then, his gaze softening slightly. “Until you came along,” Alec adds, his voice just above a murmur.

Magnus’ heart skips a beat as he meets Alec’s eye and he smiles, laughing a little.

“Well, darling. I have to admit I’m a little relieved now I know the reason why it took you this long to resist me,” he says lightly, letting a teasing tone slip into his voice. “You were still suffering from post-traumatic stress, my poor dear.”

Alec shakes his head, but his eyes crinkle in amusement. “Trust you to make light of the whole thing.”

“So…where does this leave us?”

“I don’t know. I- I’ve never felt like this about anyone else before,” Alec says, ducking his head down shyly, and Magnus bites his lip, feeling a rush of affection almost overwhelm him.

“I want to try and make this work,” Alec continues hesitantly. “But I think we first need to get to know each other outside the kitchen, as Magnus and Alec, not as Chef Bane and Chef Lightwood. If that’s okay with you?”

“I want this to work too, and I think that’s wise,” Magnus replies, “I suppose then we should keep this between ourselves for now, in that case.”

Alec nods in agreement. “For now,” he echoes, “Although I wouldn’t be surprised if Izzy and Lydia figure it out the second we walk into the restaurant later. I love those two, but I swear they have a sixth sense when it comes to these things.”

Magnus laughs, hopping off his stool and coming around to place his empty plate in the sink, switching on his coffee machine on the way.

“Speaking of which, I’m going to need some caffeine to get through today.” He turns to glance at Alec over his shoulder. “You wore me out last night, Alexander,” Magnus adds teasingly, and he giggles as a bright red blush makes its way slowly up Alec’s face. He can’t resist stepping closer to the other chef, still perched on his barstool at the counter, and he loops his arms around Alec’s neck, smiling down at him.

Alec’s hands immediately come up to settle on the small of his back, pulling him closer and suddenly Magnus is very aware he is wearing nothing except a pair of thin, worn sweatpants.

“Do you realise how hard it was to focus on that conversation with you wearing just this?” Alec murmurs, as if reading his mind, and Magnus suppresses a shiver as Alec gently traces a finger along the waistband of his sweatpants, catching on the elastic and brushing against his bare skin.

“You better stop that or we’re going to be very late for work, Chef,” Magnus whispers. He runs a hand through Alec’s messy hair, trying to tame down the wild black strands.

“Hmmph,” Alec replies, pulling a face, but he moves his hands up, smoothing them over the warm planes of Magnus’ back. He shifts closer to press a kiss on the soft skin under Magnus’ ear and Magnus grins as he catches sight of a purplish bruise on the side of Alec’s neck, standing out clearly against his pale skin.

“Darling, I’m afraid I got a bit too enthusiastic last night,” he says gently, holding back a laugh as he runs a thumb lightly over the dark mark. “And unless you’re prepared to make up some excuse about how you got this, we better get it covered up.”

Magnus grins down at Alec as the blush returns to the head chef’s face.

“You look way too smug about it,” Alec mutters.

“Can you blame me?” Magnus replies, and he lets out a laugh, tugging Alec closer and pressing their lips together briefly. Before things get out of hand, he reluctantly steps back, taking a hold of Alec’s hand and pulling him out of his seat.

“Come on, I’ve got concealer you can borrow.”

-

Alec feels as though he is floating on a cloud over the next week. His unusual behaviour does not go unnoticed by others in the kitchen, especially when he actually smiles at one of the commis, who then spends the rest of the service eyeing the head chef warily like a ticking bomb.

There is still an atmosphere of anticipation in the kitchen as they await a Michelin inspection, but as the week pasts, the Inspectors still don’t seem to make an appearance and Alec allows himself to relax for the time being. Magnus continues working as efficiently and capable as ever, being his usual cheerful and flirty self with the rest of the team, and Alec has to focus on not melting into a goofy smile each time Magnus catches his eye while they’re working.

It is the end of a busy Tuesday dinner service and the team tiredly scrubs down the kitchen after a long week of fully-booked nights. Alec looks up at the large clock on the wall as he is packing up his knives and starts a little when he realises it is almost midnight. He looks around the mostly empty kitchen, waving a hand at Raj, Jace and Clary as they head out the back exit, calling out goodbyes. Magnus is the only one left, putting away a stack of metal trays, and Alec stows his knife roll under his counter before heading over to the pastry station. Magnus looks up and smiles as he approaches.

“Almost done?”

“Yeah,” Magnus replies, huffing out a tired sigh.

He closes the cabinet door under his counter and runs a hand through his hair, and Alec sees a pained wince flicker across his face. Alec narrows his eyes as he gently takes a hold of Magnus’ hand, noticing an angry looking red burn on the side of it.

“What happened?” he asks worriedly.

“Oh,” Magnus says, frowning down at his hand in Alec’s, as though seeing the burn for the first time. “I think I brushed it against a hot pan earlier. I didn’t think…I mean, we were so busy I didn’t think twice about it.”

Alec sighs softly, giving Magnus a mock-stern look. “You should have stopped and told me.” He tugs Magnus towards the back of the kitchen. “Come on, I have a first-aid kit in my office.”

He leads Magnus into his tiny office, closing the door behind them as he sits the pastry chef down on a stack of wine crates that Raphael had stowed in there, claiming he had no more storage space in his liquor cellar. Magnus watches him quietly as Alec rummages around for the first-aid box in one of his drawers.

“Careful, chef, you don’t want anyone to accuse you of favouritism,” Magnus says softly in a gently teasing tone, watching as Alec carefully applies burn salve on his hand and loosely wraps it up with some gauze.

“You’re worth it,” Alec murmurs in reply, a little frown of concentration on his face, and Magnus’ breath catches as he gazes down at the head chef. Alec continues to surprise him with every additional moment they spend together, and Magnus feels his heart leap in his chest.

Once done, Alec puts away the box and perches himself on the edge of his desk, rubbing a hand tiredly over his face. When he opens his eyes, Magnus is standing in front of him, gazing at him with a soft look. Alec holds his arms out almost automatically, beckoning him forward and Magnus immediately steps into the space between his long legs, his arms winding around Alec’s neck and hands coming up to run through the soft hair at his nape.

“I’m so glad we’re off tomorrow,” Alec mutters, sounding exhausted, his hands settling on the small of Magnus’ back. “This week felt like it was never going to end.”

“We love our jobs, remember?” Magnus laughs softly. “But I’m glad we’re off too, darling. I think it’s about time we had our first proper date, hmm?”

Alec smiles, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah? What do you propose?”

“Why don’t you come over to mine and we can cook dinner together?”

Alec laughs out loud. “Magnus, we spend eighty hours a week cooking at work, and you want to spend our one day off in a kitchen.”

He pulls Magnus closer, feeling as though his heart is about to explode with happiness, still wrapping his head around the fact he’s now allowed to touch the other man like this.

Magnus smirks, a cheeky look on his face. “Okay then, why don’t we make it interesting. Let’s do a style swap-  I’ll cook the main and you’re in charge of dessert.”

Alec shakes his head in fond exasperation. “Alright, deal,” he agrees. It seems he can’t deny Magnus anything.

Magnus grins delightedly, and leans in to catch Alec’s lips in a slow kiss, his un-injured hand sliding forward to cup the side of Alec’s face and caressing his cheek softly.

Alec sighs contentedly as deepens the kiss and locks his arms tighter around Magnus, revelling in the heat from the other chef’s body. He parts his lips and gently traces his tongue along the seam of Magnus’ lips, pulling a soft groan from the other man. Alec absent-mindedly notes how good Magnus smells even after a long day in a hot kitchen, like melted butter and chocolate, and he realises he himself probably smells like a disgusting mix of raw fish, sweat and a combination of at least ten different sauces.

Magnus doesn’t seem to care though, and as he starts pressing hot kisses down the side of his neck, Alec suddenly forgets how tired he is.

\--

Alec knocks on Magnus’ front door early the next evening, a bag of groceries in his hand. He looks down and grins as he catches sight of Magnus’ doormat, depicting a row of silhouetted cats sitting on a ledge, with their tails spelling out the word _Bonjour._

“Hello, darling!”

The door flies open and Alec’s head comes up as Magnus appears with a wide smile. He can’t resist leaning in and pressing a quick peck to Magnus’ lips, his free arm coming up to wrap around his waist as Magnus presses closer and deepens the kiss.

“Hey,” Alec murmurs in greeting when they finally part.

He follows Magnus into the apartment, eyeing him as he heads back to the kitchen. The other chef is dressed in a worn black henley shirt, fitted snugly around his toned body, and the same sweatpants he had on the other morning. Magnus had changed the blue streaks in his hair sometime in the last week, and they were now tipped in a warm golden colour, complimenting his tanned skin. He looks casual and relaxed, without a trace of makeup on, and Alec thinks he has never seen Magnus look more beautiful.

He sets his bag of groceries on the large kitchen island, half covered in Magnus’ ingredients in various stages of preparation. There is soft bossa nova music playing in the background and the loft apartment is filled with a delicious, spicy and warm scent. Alec notices a pot already bubbling away on the stovetop.

“That smells good,” he says, starting to unpack the bag, and Magnus smiles as he looks up from the ginger he is slicing.

“It’s one of my mother’s old recipes,” he says. “I can’t wait for you to try it.”

“I’m sure it will be amazing.”

“And what’s for dessert?” Magnus asks excitedly, his knife pausing as he eyes the supplies Alec is taking out of his bag interestedly.

“It’s a surprise,” Alec teases, even though he thinks Magnus could probably figure it out just by taking one look at the ingredients.

He heads over to the fridge to put away a packet of heavy cream, catching sight of a small polaroid photo stuck onto the fridge door with a heart shaped magnet. He didn’t notice it the other morning when he had cooked breakfast, and he peers closer. It shows Magnus wearing a white chef jacket with a small ginger cat cradled in his arms, and the pastry chef is making a kissy face at the cat, his eyes crinkled in laughter.

“Is that your cat?” Alec asks, his lips curving up in a slight smile.

“Hmm?” Magnus looks over and he laughs softly. “No, that’s Pamplemousse. He was a little stray that hung out behind the hotel I worked at in Paris. He took a liking to me, maybe because I used to feed him scraps from the kitchen.” His gaze turns wistful. “I hope someone there is still feeding him.”

Alec bites back a grin. “You named him ‘Grapefruit’?”

Magnus scoffs. “Well, he’s orange, Alexander.”

Alec thinks Magnus couldn’t possibly get any more adorable as he returns to the counter, snagging a spare chopping board and knife on the way.

“I’ve always wanted a cat,” Magnus continues. “But it didn’t seem fair considering I work such long hours and am hardly ever home. The poor thing would be lonely.”

“Aren’t cats mostly independent animals, anyway?” Alec asks.

“I suppose,” Magnus replies with a shrug, “Maybe one day I’ll get one.”

They chat about random things as they prepare their respective recipes, sharing the space on Magnus’ large kitchen island. Magnus flits in between the stovetop and the counter, tossing handfuls of ingredients and spices into the pot in a haphazard manner and Alec watches him with an amused smile, thinking he looks a bit like a mad wizard mixing a potion.

“Did you always know you wanted to be a chef?” Magnus asks as he peers into his pot, stirring it with a wooden spoon.

“I think so,” Alec mutters, frowning down in concentration as he thinly slices a pear. “My parents have always worked in hospitality, and Izzy and I and our little brother Max practically grew up in whatever restaurant or hotel they were managing. I was always fascinated by the kitchens, while Izzy preferred running around causing chaos in the lobbies of fancy hotels.”

Magnus laughs in delight. “That sounds very like her. What does your little brother do?”

Alec can’t stop the proud smile that spreads across his face. “Max is eighteen, he’s just been accepted into the Culinary Institute of America. He starts in the fall.”

He takes out his phone from his pocket, pulling up a recent picture of Max and holding it out across the countertop. Magnus grins as he takes the phone, looking down at the candid snap of the youngest Lightwood in a kitchen, who is beaming into the camera and brandishing a whisk playfully.

“He’s precious,” Magnus says, and adds teasingly, “But not as handsome as his big brother.”

Alec rolls his eyes as he takes the phone back, but he smiles fondly as he picks up his knife again. “Maybe we could all go out for dinner together next time Max visits the city. I’m sure he’d love to hear your stories about working in London and Paris.”

“I’d like that,” Magnus says, looking over his shoulder at Alec with a happy smile.

They decide to eat at the dining table as the island is still covered in the mess they have made while cooking. Alec doesn’t realise how hungry he is until Magnus sets down two large bowls on the tabletop and he sniffs appreciatively as the fragrant scent hits his nose.

“The ultimate comfort food,” Magnus says, flopping down into the chair next to him. “ _Soto Ayam,_ it’s Indonesian chicken noodle soup with turmeric and ginger. Squeeze a couple of these into it.”

He holds out a small bowl of freshly cut lime wedges and Alec follows his instructions, then picks up a spoon and digs in. The soup is deliciously warm and aromatic, rich with layers and layers of flavours that have spent the last few hours simmering together and creating a complex and wonderful broth. He tastes coriander and lemongrass amongst the ingredients, the tartness of the lime a surprising but pleasant contrast against the savouriness of the chicken.

Alec is lost for words and glances at Magnus, who is happily squeezing what is probably his fourth lime into his own bowl.

“Magnus…this is- I can’t even describe it. It’s incredible.”

Magnus grins at him. “Thank you, my dear. Is it worthy of a star?”

Alec chuckles. “A hundred stars,” he jokes, and he is rewarded with a heart-stopping smile from the other man.

Alec continues with dessert as Magnus starts tidying up his own mess and putting away his ingredients, going around picking up the little spice jars littered all around the kitchen. Alec can’t help but feel a tiny bit nervous cooking for Magnus in the pastry chef’s own area of expertise. Pastry was probably Alec’s weakest link; the module he enjoyed the least back in culinary school. He had found it too scientific and precise for his liking, a teaspoon too much of one component and a whole dessert could fall apart.

He carefully puts together his dish, adding the finishing touches with a slow, steady hand. Alec had decided on something simple, and he had put his own spin on a traditional pear _tarte tatin_ , making mini individual tarts instead of a big one. He had caramelised the pears in a lavender honey, and shaped the fruit into a rose-like arrangement on top of the mini tarts, each paper-thin pear slice delicately curled and resembling individual petals. He is scooping a dollop of Mascarpone cream onto each plate as Magnus wanders back into the kitchen.

“Oh, my goodness,” Magnus breathes as he catches sight of the dessert. “Alexander, these are beautiful.”

“I guess it’s my turn for the taste test now,” Alec says a little nervously, watching apprehensively as Magnus carefully slices into his tart and eats a forkful, swiping up a bit of the cream.

Magnus frowns pensively as he licks his top lip. “What is that flavour you mixed into the cream? Lavender and…” He trails off, arching a brow questioningly.

“Earl Grey,” Alec answers and a wide smile slowly spreads across Magnus’ face.

“You continue to amaze me, my darling.” Magnus looks back down at his plate in awe, shaking his head slightly. “It’s just lovely.”

“I’m sure you’ve eaten better ones in France,” Alec says.

“You could give most of them a run for their money,” Magnus replies with a wink, taking another bite and humming in pleasure.

.

After they wash the dishes and tidy the kitchen, Magnus leads Alec into the living room, pushing him down onto his large, soft couch.

“Now, darling, don’t think I forgot about certain film you haven’t watched,” he says, switching on his TV and flicking through Netflix to find _Ratatouille_. “It’s every chef’s rite of passage.”

Alec’s eyes narrow as the film’s title page pops up onto the screen. “You never said it was a cartoon!” he replies accusingly.

“I promise you’ll enjoy it,” Magnus reassures him. He flops down onto the couch next to Alec and looks at the other man with a suggestive smirk and wink. “If you don’t, I’ll make it up to you later tonight.”

Alec mouth goes dry and he sits back without arguing further, flushing as Magnus shoots him a knowing grin and presses play.

Sometime during the film, Alec ends up spread out over the length of the couch, propped up against one end with his long legs stretched out in front of him. Magnus is using him like his own personal pillow, his head resting against Alec’s chest and his hand absent-mindedly caressing Alec’s knee as they watch the movie. Alec can’t help but think just how domestic the whole evening is, and he’s filled with contentment, hoping that there would be many more nights like this in their future.

Despite his earlier protests, Alec is completely engrossed in the movie, and as it comes to an end he is shocked to find himself welling up as Anton Ego’s final monologue plays on the screen. Magnus is singing along softly to the melodic French song that plays as the credits start to roll, and Alec manages a fond smile, tilting his head down to drop a kiss into Magnus’s silky, soft hair.

“Well?” Magnus turns his head to look up at Alec. “What did you think?”

“It was alright,” Alec mutters, but he can’t hold back a sniff and Magnus grins widely as he takes in the look on Alec’s face.

“I knew you would like it!” Magnus flips himself over on top of Alec so their chests are pressed together and Alec’s hands fly up instinctively to grab Magnus’ hips, steadying the other man so he doesn’t fall off the couch.

“What was your favourite part?” Magnus whispers, their noses almost touching as he peers at him closely.

Alec snorts, huffing out a soft laugh. “I don’t know. When the rat was cooking, I guess.”

“Which was eighty percent of the movie.” Magnus says, rolling his eyes. “Is it just me, or are you totally craving ratatouille right now?”

Alec laughs out loud. “I guess we know what we’re making for tomorrow’s family meal, then.” He can’t resist carding a gentle hand through the pastry chef’s hair and Magnus melts into an affectionate smile, pressing closer and capturing Alec’s lips with his own.

“This was the best first date I’ve ever had,” Magnus says softly when he pulls back.

“Same here,” Alec whispers. “Although I’m not usually made to cook my own dessert on dates.”

“Alexander!” Magnus gasps, his mouth falling open. He shakes his head slightly, eyes shining in amusement. “So the man can joke,” he adds, murmuring to himself.

Alec can’t help but let out another laugh and he tilts his head up to kiss Magnus again, the other man moving closer to meet him halfway. They kiss unhurriedly for several minutes, Alec’s hands roaming all over Magnus’ back, feeling his muscles shift under his thin shirt as the pastry chef moves on top of him, his entire body spread out over the length of Alec.

Alec wonders if he will ever tire of kissing Magnus, and he thinks that would be impossible as Magnus slides a tongue into his mouth with a soft groan. He can taste a hint of honeyed pear and the sweetness of his dessert still lingering in the other man’s mouth, and a heat of want flares in his stomach. Alec slips a hand under Magnus’ shirt, pressing a large warm palm flat against the smooth skin of his back, his other hand coming up to cup the back of Magnus’ neck and pulling him in even further as he deepens the kiss.

Magnus answering moan is breathless and Alec’s heart seizes in his chest as the other man pulls back for a brief moment to stare down at Alec, his gaze heated and warm brown eyes filled with affection and desire.

He thinks in that moment that whatever it takes for Magnus to keep looking at him like that, it will be worth it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoy the cavities from 5K of PURE FLUFF. We return to regularly scheduled kitchen drama next chapter ;)


	7. Chapter 7

“I think Japanese is my favourite cuisine,” Magnus declares as they stroll down the quiet, tree-lined street, after having dinner at a new sushi bar that had recently opened a few blocks down from his loft.

Alec chuckles. “You said the same thing about Thai food when we had supper at _Tao_ after work the other day.”

“Oh yes, I almost forgot about that divine duck green curry,” Magnus muses, a dreamy smile on his lips.

Their hands brush lightly against each other as they walk down the street, and Alec nervously wonders whether or not to take Magnus’ hand. It has been over a week since they had a chance to spend proper time together outside of the kitchen with each other, and Alec is enjoying the company of the other man. They have avoided talking about work the whole evening, just chatting about all sorts of random things as they get to know each other better.

Alec flushes as Magnus moves closer and makes the decision for him, reaching out to grab his hand and lacing their fingers together. A little flutter of happiness bursts in his chest, and Alec has to bite his lip to hold back a dopey grin.

“Stay over tonight?” Magnus asks softly, turning his head to glance at Alec.

Alec nods with a smile, squeezing Magnus’ hand tightly in his.

The next morning, Magnus has the pleasure of finally waking up next to Alec in his bed. The head chef is still deep in sleep, his handsome face slack and relaxed. Magnus turns on his side, watching him in quiet contentment, thinking it is a rare sight to see Alec without a frown on his face.

Magnus’s phone suddenly goes off on his bedside table, blaring out his morning alarm of _Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go._ Magnus sits up and scrambles to switch it off, but Alec is already stirring awake, throwing an arm over his face with a groan.

“Turn it off,” he mumbles, burrowing deeper under the sheets.

Magnus grins as Alec snuggles close into his side. He leans down and drops a kiss onto the chef’s forehead, smoothing a hand in his messy black hair.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” Magnus chirps. “Wake up, we have to be at work in an hour.”

“It’s Thursday, which means it’s our Monday,” Alec mutters grumpily, his eyes still screwed shut. “Why are you so cheerful?”

Magnus smiles fondly, still looking down at him. “Well, I woke up this morning with a very handsome and sexy chef in my bed,” he says teasingly. “I’m very sure I’ve had this exact dream before.”

Alec finally cracks one sleepy eye open, snorting in amusement. Magnus huffs out a sigh as his second alarm goes off, and he hops out of bed to grab his phone, Alec making a noise of protest behind him.

“It’s my turn to make breakfast this morning,” Magnus says as he picks up a discarded pair of pants off the floor and pulls them on. “You’re in luck darling, I just bought a new box of Froot Loops!”

Alec playfully throws a pillow at him, and Magnus giggles delightedly as he darts out of the way, heading toward the bedroom door.

\-- 

“Alec!”

Alec looks up as Izzy comes skittering into the kitchen on her stilettos, her dark hair flying behind her as she comes to a stop in front of his counter. Rarely anything fazes Izzy, so Alec frowns slightly as he takes in the look on his sister’s face.

“What is it?”

She takes a deep breath. “It’s Michelin. They’re here.”

With those words, the entire kitchen falls silent abruptly, and everyone pauses in what they are doing to look up at Alec and Izzy. Alec swallows hard, setting the container of dill leaves in his hands down on the countertop.

“Are you certain it’s them?” he manages to say in a low voice.

“Raphael confirmed one arrived first and had a drink at the bar. The second came in later, they left their drinks at the bar and they just ordered half a bottle of Château Sauterne, one tasting menu and one a la carte. Both men in business suits, mid-40s.”

She produces an order slip, holding it out to Alec who takes it wordlessly, his eyes still trained on Izzy. Jace comes up next to him with a frown, taking the slip from Alec’s hand and peering down at the order. “How can we be sure?”

Simon barges into the kitchen next, and they all look up and turn as one as the metal doors fly open with a whoosh.

“There’s a knife on the floor under their table,” he says breathlessly. 

The entire kitchen breaks the silence at the same time, everyone simultaneously bursting out into exclaimed curses and nervous chatter. Alec snaps back into focus, the outbreak of sudden noise pulling him into the present.

“ENOUGH!” Alec shouts out. He spins around to glare fiercely at the rest of the kitchen. “Everyone get back to their orders, NOW. Michelin have their eyes on the entire restaurant. Every dish that leaves the kitchen must be perfect. Jace--” He whirls back to his counter. “What’s the order?”

“One taster, seabass for the a la carte,” Jace calls out, already dashing back to his station.

“Clary! Start the sauce for the seabass now. James, prep the garnish, I need to see every fucking leaf that goes on that plate.”

“Yes, chef!”

The kitchen bursts into a busy cacophony of noise, sizzling pans and pots moving over stovetops and cabinet doors being opened and slammed shut. Alec immediately moves to the middle of the kitchen, hovering over the team and moving from station to station as he supervises the mains.

“One more minute on that side,” Alec mutters, coming up next to Raj and inspecting the cut of meat in his pan. He crushes a clove of garlic onto the steel countertop with a fist, tossing it in with the steak and Raj nods fervently, his eyes not leaving the grill for a second. Alec moves over to Clary, who is hunched over her stovetop and stirring a small pot rapidly, her hand in a blur. She immediately hands a teaspoon to Alec the second he comes up next to her, and he takes it to dip the spoon into the sauce to taste.

“Fine,” he says shortly. “Move on to the scallops next.”

Alec circles over to the next station, his heart pounding, and he tries to catch his breath as he hovers anxiously over the chef de partie and his commis, making sure everything was being cooked to perfection. Alec can feel Magnus’ eyes on his back, but he doesn’t dare look up to meet the other man’s eye. He doesn’t need any distractions now.

“Alec!”

His head snaps up as Izzy comes in again. “They’ve finished starters, plates are clean.”

“Mains to the pass, RIGHT NOW!” Alec calls out, moving back to the front counter.

Jace is already there, pulling up two clean plates onto the countertop. They start plating up as the others rush up to the counter, each bringing the individual components to make up the dishes.

Alec barely breathes as his plates up the dish, trying to keep his hands from shaking as he places delicate tendrils of fresh snow pea shoots on the plate, balancing them on top of an arrangement of scallops and tissue-thin chestnut slices. Clary comes up to slide a pot onto the counter by his elbow and Alec drizzles the sauce over the dish, finally picking up a clean dishcloth and carefully swiping away any stray fingerprints and sauce around the rim of the plate.

Izzy and Simon are both waiting in front of the counter and they pick up the dishes as Alec and Jace slide them across. Izzy manages to give Alec a reassuring nod and smile as she turns to head out.

“Fuck,” Alec breathes out as he watches them leave the kitchen, carefully balancing the dishes in their hands as they exit through the swinging metal doors. He swipes a sleeve across his forehead, his brow still furrowed anxiously as he finally takes in deep, shaky inhale.

He feels Jace thump him on his back. “We’ve done all we can, Alec,” his sous chef mutters reassuringly. “Let’s get back to work.”

There’s no time to sit and wait for a verdict. There is still a queue of other orders from other patrons waiting to be filled, and Alec manages a nod, pulling his focus back to his kitchen and the dishes that need plating. He doesn’t know how much time has passed when Izzy returns to the kitchen with an expressionless look on her face.

“No comments, but plates were clean,” she informs him. Izzy looks across the kitchen to the pastry station, catching Magnus’ attention. “They’ve just ordered dessert though- baked Alaska.”

Alec finally looks at Magnus then and the pastry chef looks as calm as ever as he nods back in acknowledgement to Izzy. Magnus catches Alec’s eye for a brief second before he turns his attention to the dessert. Something passes between them with just that one look, and Alec knows Magnus understands with one glance at his face just how important this moment is to both of them.

It takes everything in Alec to not go over to hover over Magnus as he prepares the dessert. Magnus is in charge of pastry and Alec still has his own dishes to supervise and plate for other orders. Still, he can’t help glancing up every few seconds to the pastry station as he continues working.

Magnus’ handsome face is set in a look of pure focus, barely blinking, with a slight frown of concentration as he hunches over with his blowtorch, carefully finishing up the dish. Sebastian is doing his own fair share of hovering, the blond pastry commis standing by Magnus’ side, his eyes not leaving the plate, and handing over whatever ingredient or piece of equipment is needed, as though they were performing delicate surgery.

Izzy comes back into the kitchen just as Magnus calls for service, and Alec immediately moves over to inspect the dish. It looks perfect, each swirl and peak of the snow-white meringue tipped in golden brown, sitting in the middle of a pristine plate with the abstract swipes and swirls of the accompanying sauces and crumbs beneath it.

Alec nods, and Izzy immediately sweeps out of the kitchen with the dish, leaving Magnus looking at him. He offers Alec a small smile, and Alec tries his best to return it, even though it comes out more like a grimace, his heart still pounding nervously.

The kitchen continues working as orders keep coming in, returning effortlessly to their usual rhythm. Not five minutes passes when Izzy comes back into the kitchen, a shell-shocked, disbelieving look on her face.

In her hands is the baked Alaska.

Alec’s heart drops into his stomach as she places the plate on his counter, and it clatters slightly as it hits the metal surface. The dessert has been cut into, a couple of spoonfuls gouged out of the white meringue.

“They sent it back,” Izzy says, her voice disbelieving and just above a whisper. “They said there was something wrong with it.”

Alec feels the kitchen spin around him, the noises from the others drowning out into a faint ringing noise. He grasps out blindly to take a hold of the counter to brace himself. _Impossible_ , he thinks. He feels as though he is having an out-of-body experience, like he is watching himself in a movie or reality show.

“What happened!?”

Magnus is by his side in a second, the expression on his face mirroring Izzy’s perfectly.

Alec tries to pull himself together, and he reaches out blindly to grab nearby fork, swiping up a piece of the dessert and tasting it. He knows something is wrong the moment the fork touches his tongue. Instead of melting into his mouth, the meringue bubbles unpleasantly with a chemical tang, and as it hits the back of his throat it tastes as though he has swallowed a mouthful of seawater.

Alec immediately spits it out into a nearby bin, his eyes watering from the burn of the salt.

“Wh- what the fuck!” he splutters.

Magnus snatches the fork out of his hand, taking a bite for himself. The look on his face flickers from shock to disgust to confusion as he spits out his own mouthful.

“Shit!” Magnus hisses out, swiping a sleeve over his mouth. “How the fuck—,” He trails off, staring at the plate in utter disbelief, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide.

Alec doesn’t even know where to start. A thousand questions flood into his mind. How did Magnus manage to screw up the dessert so badly?

He turns to the pastry chef and as he opens his mouth, Lydia strides into the kitchen, her face in a frown and mouth set in a tight line. “They just left. I can’t do anything more, I comped their entire bill. What the hell happened?”

Magnus shakes his head slowly, his eyes still fixed on the dessert. “I- I don’t know. I’ve made this a thousand times. I did everything exactly the same, I swear.”

“But something obviously happened!” Alec bites out. There is still an unpleasant aftertaste in his mouth from the bite he had taken from the dessert. “What did you do to it?”

He doesn’t mean to let the accusing tone slip into his voice, but it comes out anyway and Magnus turns to look at him, a flicker of disbelieving hurt passing over his face.

“Who prepped the meringue?” Lydia questions.

“I did,” Magnus replies, turning to her. “I always do. But it should have been perfect-,”

“Well, it didn’t fucking over-salt itself, and a box of baking soda didn’t magically pour itself into it!” Alec exclaims angrily, gesturing at the offending plate sharply.

“Alec!” Izzy steps forward and places a steady hand on his arm. “Calm down. There must be some reasonable explanation for this.”

“No, Izzy!” He shrugs off her hand. “It’s over. There’s no way we’re getting a third star after this, and I’ll be surprised if we don’t lose the other two.”

“Alec, Izzy’s right.” Jace steps up next, frowning seriously. The rest of the kitchen has halted around them, watching silently. “It must have been an accident, or a wrong ingredient slipping in by mistake. Maybe Sebastian knows something.”

Everyone turns to look at the pastry station, which is noticeably empty. The blond pastry commis is nowhere to be seen, and Lydia’s frown deepens as she glances around the kitchen.

“Where is he?” she asks in a sharp tone, and huffs out an exhale as her gaze snaps to two of the apprentices. “James, Zoe, check the staff room, the bathroom and the back alley, see if he’s there.”

They nod and hurry off at her authoritative tone. Alec takes in a deep breath, his eyes closing briefly for a moment, frustration numbing any coherent thought and anger starting to roll through him. “What’s the fucking point of asking him? It’s done. This was the most important meal we’ve ever had to cook, and we fucked up.”

“Alexand—,”

“No, Magnus. Enough.” Alec cuts him off flatly. “You’ve done enough.”

Alec opens his eyes, turning his head to meet Magnus’ gaze. The pastry chef stares back at him unwaveringly, but Alec can see the hurt and disappointment that flashes clearly in his brown eyes.

“Alexander,” Magnus says slowly but fiercely, dismay colouring every syllable, and despite his fury there is a sharp pang in Alec’s chest at hearing Magnus say his name like that. “You can’t possibly think I fucked up the dessert on purpose.”

Alec shakes his head. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

He feels hollow inside and he doesn’t miss the heartbroken look on Magnus’ face as he brushes past the pastry chef. Alec doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes as he exits the kitchen, leaving his team in a stunned silence behind him.

\--

Magnus stares into the bottom of his martini glass, the music of the nightclub thumping loudly. In front of him the dance floor is packed with sweaty, writhing bodies, but Magnus hardly notices it. The only thing on his mind is the image of Alec’s face and the way the head chef had spoken to him the previous night. The whole situation is still foggy and unclear in his head, and Magnus’ brain hurts from trying to figure out what had happened with the disastrous dessert.

He hadn’t heard from Alec since, and the one call he had tried to make to his mobile had gone straight to voicemail. There is a sharp pang in his chest each time he thinks of the head chef, and Magnus lets his head drop back against the seat of his booth, staring blankly up at the flashing strobe lights on the ceiling, Alec’s sharp, accusing tone echoing in his mind.

“Hello darling, fancy seeing you here.”

The familiar voice cuts through the music and noise of the nightclub and Magnus closes his eyes for a brief moment as Camille slides into the booth next to him.

“I’m not in the mood tonight, Camille,” he deadpans. He picks up his glass and downs the rest of the martini in one swallow. “Please leave.”

Camille pouts. “Oh come on, Magnus. Let an old friend buy you a drink and tell me what’s wrong, hmm?”

She sidles closer to him, but Magnus continues to stare straight ahead without turning to look at her. “No, thank you. I get all my drinks here for free.”

Camille rolls her eyes and huffs slightly, the first sign of irritation flickering across her face, but she smooths it over into a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“So, darling. Word on the street is The Institute has lost all chances of ever getting a third star.”

Magnus chest seizes painfully and his eyes narrow as he tries to keep his voice steady. “How would you know anything about that?”

“Oh, my dear. You know how the industry is like. Word spreads just like that.” She snaps her fingers sharply, the sound ringing loudly, close to Magnus’ ear.

Magnus finally turns to look at her, fixing her with an expressionless gaze. “Well, it’s none of your concern.”

She simpers, her hand coming to rest on his arm. “Well, it is, when someone close to my heart is wasting his time in a restaurant not worth his while.”

Magnus crosses his arms across his chest, jerking her hand off roughly. Camille sighs softly. “Magnus, dear. You have so much talent. So much potential to do great things for a restaurant willing to go to the next level with you.”

She leans closer, her voice dropping down to a whisper into his ear. “Come work with me at _Dumort_ , darling. Remember how amazing we were together? We could have the best restaurant in the world, like we always dreamt of. You and me, together again.”

Magnus suppress a shiver of disgust. He edges away from Camille, trying to ignore her presence. He is about to leave the booth, when a thought catches hold in his mind and refuses to leave. Magnus frowns, thinking hard as he tries to drown out the loud music.

Yes, news does spread fast in the restaurant world, but the Michelin incident only happened last night, and there was no way anyone at The Institute would have gone blabbing about what had happened with the disastrous dessert. How the hell did Camille manage to hear about it so quickly? Did she have spies inside The Institute’s kitch—

With that thought, Magnus snaps back to reality. He had been slightly buzzed with the steady flow of drinks Catarina had supplied him throughout the night, but he suddenly feels stone cold sober.

“Camille.” He looks up at the woman, who acknowledges him an arch of her brow. “What the fuck did you do?” he hisses out, horror dawning on him.

Camille scoffs. “What do you mean?”

“You- you had someone working for you at the Institute, didn’t you?” Magnus bites out. “What did you do, bribe someone to fuck up my dessert on purpose? So we would lose the star?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling.” Camille says, a hand coming up to wave off his words breezily, but there is a glint in her eyes that Magnus knows all too well. He shakes his head, eyes wide, his mind racing ahead as flashes of memories suddenly flood into his brain.

“Sebastian,” he breathes. _Of course,_ he thinks. _How could I not have seen it earlier?_

The pastry commis had disappeared the previous evening, even after the apprentices had hunted for him up and down around the restaurant’s surrounding streets. Izzy had even called his mobile number to no avail, and they had discovered later his locker in the staff room had been completely cleared out. It was yet another mystery during a night full of disaster and unanswered questions.

Until now. Magnus had always thought his commis a little odd, but he figured he was probably just awkward and shy. They had come to work together fairly well, and Sebastian had always worked efficiently and quietly without complaints. Over the months, Magnus had come to entrust Sebastian with certain complex prep work, and the commis also had an uncanny way of sensing whatever ingredient Magnus would need, handing him the items instinctively. And of course, Magnus had no reason to distrust the commis, automatically taking whatever Sebastian handed him without question. Which turned out to be his downfall. 

Magnus’ mind immediately flies back to the previous night. Since then, he had gone over and over again in his head every step he had taken while preparing that baked Alaska, a dessert he has made countless times before. He knows without a doubt he had followed every step perfectly. Magnus suddenly remembers with startling clarity Sebastian handing him the tub of sugar while he had been making the meringue. Or what should have been sugar. God only knows what he had only mixed into it to create the disastrous, inedible dessert.

Magnus feels a wave of fury crash through him, and he stands abruptly, pushing Camille aside to leave the booth. She blinks, startled at his sudden movement and turns to call after him.

“Darling, where--,”

“Fuck you, Camille.” Magnus turns back to look at her with a dangerous glare. “And I wouldn’t work with you even if hell froze over.”

\--

Alec walks into the restaurant on Thursday morning, feeling drained and exhausted, despite having spent the entire previous off day wallowing in bed. He had his phone stubbornly switched off, not wanting to talk to Izzy, Lydia, Jace, Magnus or anyone else who would try to call him to talk about what had happened.

Magnus.

He regrets the way he spoke to the pastry chef the previous night, almost as soon as it had happened, and Alec’s heart aches each time he thinks of the other man. He can’t shake the image of the way Magnus had looked at him, hurt and stricken, and Alec keeps finding himself reaching for his phone to call him and apologise. But each time he does he can’t bring himself to turn it on, the thought of his restaurant being stripped of its Michelin stars causing a physical pain in his chest.

“Alec.”

Lydia appears from around the corner as he makes his way through the empty dining room, with an unreadable expression on her face. “Can I speak to you in my office, please.”

He nods slightly, sighing as he follows her into the small office space and slumping down into the empty chair at Izzy’s desk. Lydia closes the door behind her and Alec steels himself, preparing for her to start laying into him for his behaviour.

Instead, she tosses something down in front of him and Alec frowns as he looks at the envelope that lands on the desk, Lydia’s name written on the front in a familiar handwriting.

Alec sits up. “What is that?”

“I found this on my desk when I came in this morning. It’s from Magnus. He’s resigned, effective immediately.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, sorry.


	8. Chapter 8

“Alec. Alec!”

Alec looks up blankly at Izzy, who is eyeing him with a concerned frown.

“What?” he asks, turning his attention back down to the lobster on his countertop. He hacks it in half with his cleaver, bringing his knife down with more force than necessary, and Izzy flinches as the knife hits the board with a loud _thwack_.

“Lunch service starts in fifteen minutes,” she says, her voice dropping down to a softer octave. “We’re waiting for you to give the specials.”

Alec turns to find the whole team looking at him expectantly, gathered around for the usual pre-service briefing. He huffs out a slight sigh, letting the knife drop carelessly onto the chopping board.

“Jace can do it,” Alec replies tonelessly. He wipes his hand on the dishcloth tucked into the waistband of his chef’s apron and turns to make his way toward the back of the kitchen.

Over at the pastry station, Jace looks up at the mention of his name. He had been studying one of Magnus’ handwritten recipes with a deep frown, trying to decipher the abbreviations and complex instructions, but he lets the recipe card fall onto the countertop as Alec brushes past the pastry station without meeting his eye, the head chef’s face devoid of any expression.

The entire team watches in uncomfortable silence as Alec disappears into his office, closing the door firmly behind him. Jace sighs and heads to the front of the kitchen. He catches Izzy’s eye and they exchange a grim look as she hands him the clipboard with the day’s specials.

“Alright guys, soup of the day is…”

\--

“Hey! Sorry, I’m late!”

Izzy looks up from her phone as Clary tumbles in the waiting cab.

“That’s okay, we were only waiting for a minute.” She turns to the cab driver. “We’re heading to _Dumort_ on East 65th street now, please.”

Izzy glances over at Clary with a smile, who is dressed in a pretty deep purple dress, complimenting her red hair. “You look nice.”

“Thanks!” Clary snorts out a laugh. “God, I spend so much time in chef gear I’ve forgotten what it feels like to dress up.”

Later when they are seated in the restaurant, Clary glances around at their surroundings. _Dumort_ is as elegantly decorated as The Institute, but lavish and ornate where The Institute is sleek and contemporary.

“I feel weird being here, like we’re betraying Magnus. I mean, his bitchy ex is the head chef,” Clary whispers across the table to Izzy, who is studying the wine list with a little frown.

“I know. I feel the same.” Izzy sighs and puts down the menu. “But I guess I understand why Lydia set us a temperature check here. _Dumort_ has two stars as well, probably also trying for their third. They’re the closest competitor we have in the city.”

Clary fiddles with her water glass, a sad look coming over her face. “Speaking of Magnus, had you heard from him? He’s not replying to any of my texts.”

Izzy shakes her head. “Same. I’ve sent him about fifty unanswered messages, and every call goes straight to voicemail. I hope he’s okay.”

Clary huffs out a sigh. “I can’t believe he resigned. I know that dessert wasn’t his fault. He would never do something like that to Alec.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” Izzy replies. “I just wish we could figure out what happened.”

They both fall silent, and Izzy knows they’re both thinking of Alec. The head chef had been sullen and almost silent at work during the week since Magnus had left, his face a mask of blank expression as he worked automatically, as though he was sleepwalking and just going through the motions during each service.

It had pained Izzy to see her brother like that, as though he has given up all hope of ever winning the third Michelin star. She can’t help but wonder if there is something more to Alec’s despondent mood, and if it involves a certain pastry chef. Even the others, who are all used to Alec barking out orders and commanding the kitchen, had been taken aback by the change in the head chef’s behaviour. It also didn’t help that now with both Magnus and Sebastian gone, Jace has had to go back to cover the pastry station, and Izzy knows they are all running ragged in the kitchen trying to keep everything afloat.

A server appears by their table to take their drink order and Izzy and Clary each order a glass of wine. After he leaves, Izzy flips open the menu, scanning through it with a practised eye.

“What do you think of the menu?” she mutters.

Clary arches a brow. “The pigeon sounds interesting, I suppose.”

Izzy stifles a laugh. “From an objective point of view, Chef Fray,” she says teasingly. “I know we’re on Magnus’ side, but we can’t possibly report back to Lydia saying everything was horrible.”

Clary relaxes into a laugh. “Alright, alright.” She puts down her menu and stands. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

Izzy nods without looking up and Clary heads down a corridor at the back of the restaurant to search for the restrooms. She comes to a dead end without seeing any restroom signage, and she turns around to go back when she hears a very familiar, muffled voice float out from behind a door. She hadn’t noticed it before, the door being covered in the same deep red, damask-patterned wallpaper plastering the walls of the corridor.

“The deal was that you were going to make me sous chef.”

 _Sebastian? What the hell would he be doing here?_ Clary frowns as she presses closer to the door, holding her breath.

“--so why aren’t you holding up your end of the bargain?” She hears Sebastian continue.

“Isn’t a chef de partie position enough? It’s more than you would ever get at the Institute.” Clary supresses a gasp as a second voice comes floating out, icy and condescending. _Unmistakably Camille,_ she thinks, remembering the unpleasant woman from the award ceremony.

“Camille, I gained Bane’s trust. I sabotaged his dessert for Michelin. I did everything you asked for. I was promised the sous chef position at _Dumort_ in exchange…” Sebastian has raised his voice, his tone becoming more agitated.

Clary’s mouth falls open and her breath hitches in her throat. She hurries away from the door, letting Sebastian’s voice trail off behind her as the puzzle pieces slot into place in her mind.

Izzy looks up as Clary comes back to the table, her eyes wide and a startled look on her face.

“Hey, where were you? Everything okay?”

Izzy starts as Clary grabs her arm, pulling her out of her chair. “No, come on, come on. We have to leave now.”

“What? Clary—what the hell is going on?”

“I’ll tell you once we get out of here,” Clary hisses, and she hurries them out of the dining room.

\--

Alec startles awake, groaning as the incessant pounding on his door doesn’t stop. He opens his eyes, glancing at his clock on his bedside table, neon letters reading 3:30am. Huffing out a muttered curse, he throws the covers off himself and slides out of bed, the knocking at his front door not letting up for a second. Alec shuffles out into his living room, blinking as he flicks on the light, and throws open the door to find Izzy, her hand still held upright in a fist, mid-knock.

“Jesus, Alec! Took you fucking long enough,” she huffs, pushing past him into the apartment. “Why is your phone off? I called you like, fifty times.”

“Izzy, what the fuck? Do you know what time it is?”

Izzy rolls her eyes as she flops down onto his couch. “You’re not going to care once I tell you what happened.”

Alec collapses into the armchair opposite her, rubbing his hands over his face tiredly. “What is it, Iz? I’m exhausted and we have to be at work in less than seven hours.”

“Clary and I had a temperature check at _Dumort_ earlier tonight. Want to know how the food was like?” Izzy asks, arching a brow.

“I don’t care,” Alec deadpans, his head dropping back against the back of his chair as he gazes up at the ceiling blankly.

“Well good, because we never got to the food. Dear Clary, who you owe a huge thank you to, by the way, went to the bathroom before the wine even came, and happened across a very interesting conversation between the head chef and one of our old co-workers.”

Alec sighs exasperatedly. “Izzy, please get to the point.”

Izzy slaps a hand sharply across his knee and ignores the dirty look he shoots her. “Alec! I’m trying to help you here!”

She huffs out an impatient exhale. “Camille bribed Sebastian into sabotaging the baked Alaska.”

Alec shoots upright at that, coming to stare at his sister with wide eyes.

“Wha—what!?”

“Clary overheard them arguing in her office. Camille promised Sebastian _Dumort_ ’s sous chef position in exchange for sabotaging the dessert for Michelin. God knows for whatever reason is in that evil head of hers. Revenge on Magnus- or because she was threatened by The Institute, I don’t know.”

Alec looks down at his feet, a deep frown on his face as he takes it in.

“Alec, that’s not all.”

Izzy grabs a hold of his arm. “I just got off the phone with the Michelin office. I had to wait until it was 9am in Paris for them to open. I called them to explain what Sebastian did to the dessert, and guess what?”

Her long nails dig painfully into his bare arm and Alec looks up at her, her eyes gleaming in excitement.

“They said they had no Inspectors in New York that night! So, I called the number the so-called Inspectors used to book the restaurant reservation and it went to voicemail for some IT company in Westchester.”

Alec shakes his head slightly, trying to catch up with the words spilling hurriedly from his sister’s mouth.

“Izzy- what…what are you saying?” he breathes.

“We still have a chance to win the third star!” she blurts out. “Those men weren’t from Michelin! They’re probably just two bored suburban office workers who’ve watched one too many food documentaries and decided to do a bit of role-playing for the night.” She huffs, rolling her eyes.

Alec barely pays her any attention. He lets out a shaky exhale as he absorbs the information.

“Oh my god,” he mutters. “Oh fuck. Magnus…I have to go find Magnus!” He leaps up from his seat and races toward his front door, snatching up his keys and phone from the small table by the entry.

“Alec! Wait! You’re only wearing a pair of pyjama shorts, for Christ’s sake!” Izzy hurries after him, grabbing him by the shoulders, and shoves him in the direction of his bedroom.

“Go get dressed! I’ll call you a cab!” she calls out.

 -

Alec is already pushing a twenty-dollar bill toward the cab driver and opening the car door even before the taxi comes to a complete stop outside Magnus’ apartment building.

“Keep the change!” he calls out over his shoulder, hurrying out of the car.

He glances down at his watch as he presses the buzzer insistently for Magnus’ loft at the entrance of the building. It’s barely past four in the morning, and he knows he’s probably waking the other man up, but he doesn’t care. He has to see Magnus, has to apologise and explain and beg him to come back. Alec huffs out a sigh of relief as the entrance door finally clicks open, and he takes the stairs two at a time, too impatient to wait for the slow elevator.

His heart is racing in his chest as he comes to Magnus’ front door, and he takes a moment to look down at the familiar cat doormat as he braces his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He looks up as he hears the door swing open and Catarina appears, leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed.

“Oh—hi,” Alec pants out.

Catarina raises an eyebrow in greeting. “You’re lucky I work at a nightclub, and just finished my shift an hour ago,” she says, looking down pointedly at the slim watch on her wrist. “This isn’t usual visiting hours.”

“Sorry,” Alec mutters. “I- I have to speak to Magnus.”

“You can’t,” Catarina replies, and Alec’s face falls.

“I know he’s your best friend, and you have every right to be mad at me after the way I treated him,” he begins, stumbling over his words as he tries to speak as fast as possible. “But please, if you could just give me a chance to ex--,”

Catarina stops him with an outstretched hand, rolling her eyes. “Alec, stop. Yes, I am mad at you, but we’ll get to that later. I meant you can’t talk to Magnus because he’s not here.”

Alec frowns. “It’s four in the morning, where else could he be?”

Catarina shrugs. “I don’t know. He headed out about fifteen minutes ago, saying he had to go say goodbye to some place before he leaves.”

Alec’s heart drops into his stomach. “Leaves? Leave where?”

Catarina sighs softly, taking in the stricken look on the chef’s face. “I shouldn’t be telling you, but he’s flying back to Paris tomorrow.”

“No,” Alec gasps out. “He can’t go!” He brings a hand up to run through his hair in frustration, his eyes screwing shut. He’s desperate to see Magnus, to explain everything that happened.

“Sorry, Alec,” Catarina says. “I don’t want him to leave any more than you do, but his mind seems to be made up.”

She offers him a slight smile and starts to close the door, but Alec quickly stops it with a hand. “Wait- where did you say Magnus was? Somewhere he had to go say goodbye to?”

She nods, and Alec immediately knows where he is.

-

The sun is starting to rise over the Brooklyn Bridge when Alec hops out of the cab as it comes to a halt outside the entrance of the Brooklyn Farmer’s market. Despite the early hour the market is already bustling with activity, workers unloading trays and crates of fresh produce, delivery trucks and vans crowding the road to the entrance and the vendors calling out greetings and chatting with each other.

Alec enters the market, feeling slightly overwhelmed. Inside, it is a maze of narrow lanes, food stalls and boxes of produce arranged haphazardly everywhere, and he looks wildly around, his senses overloading as he tries to take in everything and look out for any sign of Magnus. Alec scours through two long lanes, before coming out into a slightly more spacious area surrounded by little cafés and coffee stalls, most of them still dark and shuttered closed.

He comes to a stop and his heart skips a beat in his chest as he finally catches sight of the pastry chef. Magnus is sitting atop a stack of empty milk crates, a takeaway cup of coffee in his hands as he watches a bread-seller unpack trays of freshly-baked pastries and rolls at his stall. He doesn’t have any makeup on, and his hair is un-styled, falling softly over his forehead as he stares pensively at the bread stall.

Alec takes a deep breath before approaching him hesitantly. Magnus looks up as he comes closer, and a brief look of surprise flickers over his face before he smooths it over into an unreadable expression. Suddenly all that Alec wants to say die in his mouth, and he gestures to the stack of crates next to Magnus’. 

“May I?” he asks softly.

Magnus shrugs a shoulder, and Alec takes that as a yes, perching himself carefully on them. They sit in silence for a few moments, until Alec can’t stand it anymore and has to say something.

“Magnus…I- I’m sorry,” he starts, speaking quietly. “I’m so sorry for what I said to you that night.”

Magnus doesn’t say anything in reply, still looking down at the coffee cup as he twirls it around in his hands. Alec bites his lip, looking sideways for any sort of reaction from the other man. His heart is fluttering anxiously and he’s desperate for Magnus to say something, anything.

“I shouldn’t have accused you like that. I wasn’t thinking straight. I should have known there was no way you would purposely screw up the dessert,” Alec says, the words falling out from his mouth in a rush. “It was Sebastian, he was bribed--,”

Magnus finally huffs out a sigh. “I know it was Camille.”

Alec’s mouth falls open. “Wh-What? How?”

 _Jesus, isn’t this a fun night of revelations_ , Alec thinks to himself absent-mindedly. _If someone tells me one more piece of shocking news I might actually have a heart attack._

Magnus shakes his head, a rueful look on his face. “It seems she’s still determined to ruin me after all these years,” he speaks softly. “She wanted me to go work with her at _Dumort_ , and figured the best way to do that was to get me fired from The Institute. She wasted no time in coming to find me after that night.”

“Fuck, Magnus,” Alec breathes. He leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and staring at the ground as he absorbs the news.

Magnus sighs quietly, and Alec turns to study his profile.

“Magnus, don’t go back to Paris. Please. Come back to The Institute.”

Magnus’ face crumples into a look of dismay. “Alexander…I can’t. It’s all my fault you’re not going to win the third star. Even if I didn’t knowingly ruin the dessert, I’m still the reason it happened.”

“No, Magnus. They weren’t from Michelin.” Alec explains the story in a rush, how Izzy had called the Michelin office and found out about the pretend Inspectors who weren’t even Inspectors. Magnus stares at him in shock.

“What?”

“We can still win the third star, Magnus. So come back.”

Magnus shakes his head slightly, turning his gaze back to the ground dejectedly.

“I know Camille, and I know she will stop at nothing to get what she wants. She’s going to keep trying with whatever under-handed techniques she can think up, following me wherever I go. Who knows how many more restaurants she will ruin through me? I can’t stay in New York, always looking over my shoulder for her, and suspecting every person I work with.”

“Let her,” Alec grits out fiercely. “Come back to The Institute, and let her try anything ever again. I promise she will be sorry if she does.”

“Alexander…”

“Magnus. Please come back.” Alec pushes himself off his crates, coming around to stand face to face with the other man. Magnus looks up and meets his gaze, and Alec’s heart seizes sharply as he takes in the pained look in Magnus’ eyes. He wants so badly to reach out and touch Magnus, hold him, anything, but he doesn’t know if it will be welcome. His chest aches with the thought, remembering just how easily they had been able to fall into each other’s arms a mere week ago.

“We need you there. I- I need you. I can’t win the third star without you,” Alec starts softly.

Magnus breaks the gaze first, letting out a quiet sigh and staring past Alec’s shoulder. “Yes, you can,” he replies wistfully. “You are a wonderful chef, Alexander, and you have such an amazing team.”

Alec shakes his head. “Not without the best pastry chef in the world I don’t,” he says stubbornly.

Magnus huffs and arches an eyebrow wryly. “Some pastry chef I am. I can’t even tell when I’m putting the wrong ingredients into meringue.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “Fuck that meringue. Besides, it’s not like Jace has been making it any better for the last week, anyway.”

Despite himself, a short, startled laugh spills out from Magnus, and the tension in Alec eases slightly as Magnus’ lips quirk up in a tiny smile.

“See how much we need you?” Alec whispers.

They look at each other in silence, until Magnus narrows his eyes slightly, a sudden realisation popping into his mind.

“Alexander, how did you find me? I didn’t tell anyone I was coming to the market.”

Alec shuffles his feet awkwardly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Um- I went to your apartment, and Catarina was there, and she was nice enough not to slam the door in my face. She told me you went to say goodbye to some place.”

Magnus’ mouth opens slightly. “And you immediately knew to come here?”

Alec lifts a shoulder in a small shrug. “You told me once this was where you felt most at home…”

He trails off, watching Magnus carefully. Something shifts in the pastry chef’s eyes, his gaze softening as he stares at Alec for a long, silent moment.

“Okay,” Magnus finally says, his voice so soft that Alec reads the word on his lips more than hears it.

“You- you’ll come back?”

Magnus nods, and Alec’s shoulders sag as a flood of relief overcomes him. He still can’t ignore a niggling feeling of guilt tugging at him, though.

Alec looks down, flushing slightly and wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m sorry about what I said to you.”

Magnus blinks, thinking for a moment. “Oh. Well, darling. I won’t say it didn’t hurt, but I understand. And you’re forgiven. With everything that happened that night, I don’t think any of us were thinking rationally.”

Alec shakes his head. “I still shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

“Let’s put it behind us, Alexander. I said I forgive you,” Magnus says, before huffing out a slight laugh. “Now, Catarina on the other hand…you may have to work a little harder for her forgiveness.”

Alec’s eyes widen in trepidation and Magnus can’t stop his smile at the look on his face.

-

“MAGNUS!”

Magnus barely has time to look up as Clary comes barrelling toward him, grabbing him tightly around his middle. He huffs out a laugh, returning the hug as the red bandanna holding her hair back tickles his chin.

“Hey, biscuit.”

Clary pulls back, and she is smiling widely up at him. “I’m so glad you came back, Magnus. Are you alright? We were so worried.”

He smiles sheepishly. “I’m fine. Sorry I didn’t answer your messages.”

She shakes her head. “That’s okay. I’m just happy you’re back. It wasn’t the same without you.”

“Oh, thank fuck.”

They both look up as Jace appears from the pantry, a large sack of flour in his arms.

“You don’t even know how happy I am to see you, Bane,” Jace says, letting the flour drop with a thud onto the nearest countertop. “Look, you know I love your desserts, but the goddamn recipes are way more complicated than they need to be.”

Clary slaps Jace’s arm sharply with a fierce look as Magnus huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. He heads over to his station, running a hand over the familiar, smooth metal countertop, and looks up and meets Alec’s eye. The head chef is at his usual place at the front of the kitchen, but when he catches Magnus’ gaze he sets down the knife he is sharpening and makes his way over to the pastry station.

“My poor darling station,” Magnus says, softly patting the steel mixer sitting on top of his counter. “She’s been traumatised by Jace.”

Alec stifles a laugh. “She’s happy to see you back.” He bites his lip and looks down at the countertop, rubbing a finger over a scratch mark on the surface. “And so am I,” he adds quietly, a light flush on his cheeks.

When he finally gathers the courage to look up at Magnus, the pastry chef is looking back at him with an unreadable expression.

“Alexan--,” Magnus starts to speak, but he is immediately interrupted by an excited squeal from the front of the kitchen.

“Magnus!”

Alec steps back just in time as Izzy runs up and throws her arms around Magnus, followed closely by Simon. Alec chuckles and shakes his head, watching in amusement as Magnus staggers back slightly from the force of both Izzy and Simon wrapped around him.

“Don’t you ever dare try to leave us again!” Izzy says, her face buried in the front of Magnus’ chef jacket.

“I won’t,” Magnus replies softly, with his eyes still locked on Alec’s.

\--

“We’ll try the Barbaresco.”

Izzy smiles at the patron, a middle-aged man dressed in an expensive suit. “Certainly.”

“A half bottle,” his partner speaks up, looking at Izzy over the top of her stylish glasses. “Oh, and two glasses of tap water.”

Izzy manages a nod and gives them a charming smile before stepping away from the table. As she heads toward the bar, she beckons over one of her servers, leaning close to murmur in the girl’s ear.

“Table six, possible code M. Don’t take your eyes off them.”

.

“Alec.”

Izzy is standing in front of the counter with an apprehensive look on her face.

“Two patrons at table six. They just ordered- one tasting menu, one a la carte. Half a bottle of wine. And Sofie just saw one of them place a fork under the table.”

Alec doesn’t take his eyes off the dish in front of him. His heart jumps into his throat, and he feels a brief and sudden wave of panic wash through him, but he forces it down, making himself take a couple of deep, even breaths.

_Sometimes you just have to trust some things are meant to be._

The thought pops into his mind unexpectedly, and he remembers Magnus thoughtfully saying the words during their car ride together months back. So much has happened since then, and the moment feels like a lifetime ago, but Alec runs through the words in his mind again, holding onto them like a lifeline and feeling them ground him. 

Alec finally looks up at Izzy.

“Okay.”

Izzy raises her brows. “Okay?” she echoes. “It’s Michelin, it has to be. This is it.”

The kitchen quietens down, the clanging of pots and pans on stoves and moving knives coming to a sudden stop, until the only sound in the silent kitchen is the sizzling of a piece of steak on the grill. Alec gazes at Izzy unwaveringly.

“We do what we do,” he says calmly, holding out a hand for the order slip. She passes it over, looking at him incredulously, and he glances through it quickly with a nod, turning to face the rest of the kitchen. Jace, Clary and the others are all staring at him warily, waiting for his command.

“One taster, one veal,” Alec calls out, his voice ringing out steady and calm in the silent kitchen. “You all know what to do. We’ve got this, guys.”

Magnus can’t help but feel a flutter of pride as he watches Alec take charge of the order. He snaps effortlessly into head chef mode, moving to circle around the middle stations to supervise the dishes. Magnus remembers the expression on Alec’s face a few weeks ago, while they had been cooking for who they had thought were the Inspectors, and the head chef had barely been able to conceal his nervousness then, eyes wide with panic and looking like he was two seconds away from throwing up.

Alec in the kitchen tonight seems like a different person however, his gaze focused and sharp as he plates up at the front, practiced hands moving expertly and steadily as he assembles the dishes. After he calls for service and the dishes leave the kitchen, Magnus manages to catch Alec’s eye to shoot him his trademark wink, and Alec shakes his head fondly in reply, a small, warm smile on his lips.

Later that night, Alec is unbuttoning his chef jacket, getting changed to head home and he starts a little as he hears a soft knock at his office door. He reaches over and opens it, finding Magnus on the other side.

“Hey,” Alec greets, and Magnus smiles in reply, stepping in.

“Everything okay?” Alec asks with a small frown. He pulls off his jacket, hanging it up on the hook behind his door, leaving his black t-shirt on underneath.

“You were brilliant tonight, Alexander.”

Alec turns to find Magnus watching him closely, and he relaxes into a smile, shaking his head. “So were you,” Alec replies. “But you always are.”

Earlier, the Inspectors had ordered Magnus’ Cassis and Elderflower Bombe for their dessert, and Magnus had prepared it so perfectly, Alec had barely glanced at the dish before he sent it out for service.

Alec looks at Magnus, longing to reach out to take him into his arms, but he is unsure where they stand. The pastry chef has not made a move or mentioned anything about their relationship ever since he had come back to The Institute, and Alec is reluctant to bring it up, stricken and terrified at the thought that Magnus may want to go back to being just co-workers after everything that had happened.

“Can…can I give you a ride home?” Alec asks hesitantly, and Magnus smiles but shakes his head, already heading to the door.

“Thank you darling, but I’m good. Cat and Ragnor just finished their shifts too and I’m meeting them for a drink,” Magnus says and he turns, his hand on the doorknob. “I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you.”

Alec’s breath catches as he takes in the soft gaze in Magnus’ warm brown eyes.

“We haven’t won the star yet,” he manages to say quietly.

Magnus answering smile takes what’s left of his breath away. “You will.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alec glances up at the clock, a nervous flutter of anticipation in his stomach. The new Michelin guide is due to be released in fifteen minutes, but there’s no time for them to sit around anxiously waiting for the result when they have a busy dinner service ahead of them. Around him, the kitchen is buzzing with activity as the team prepares for service. Alec doesn’t miss how Jace is also watching the clock closely as he preps the seafood. Magnus, on the other hand, is showing no sign of outward emotion, hunching over his countertop as he steadily pipes out complex swirls of chocolate ganache onto a tray of delicate little cakes.

“Everyone, it’s time!” Izzy calls out as she strides into the kitchen, Lydia right behind her, frowning down at the laptop in her hands. She sets the computer down on Alec’s counter and he lets his knife fall onto the tabletop, unable to stop the nervous tremor that runs through his hand.

The rest of the team immediately drop what they’re doing, coming to crowd anxiously around the front counter. Lydia and Izzy both have their eyes fixed on the computer screen, and Lydia’s hands are flying over the keyboard. The kitchen is utterly silent, the tension and anticipation in the air palpable. The only sound is Lydia hitting the keys on her laptop as she brings up the Michelin page, and Alec schools his face into an expressionless mask, forcing himself to breathe in and out evenly.

Izzy and Lydia are frowning, their eyes scanning quickly over the screen and Alec hears a breath hitch in his sister’s throat. 

“We did it,” Lydia breathes. “We won the third star!”

The words leave her mouth in an excited rush and there is a split second of stunned silence before the kitchen erupts into a deafening roar. Alec takes a small step back in shock as her words sink in, his heart racing a million miles. He watches the kitchen around him as if everyone is moving in slow motion. Lydia and Izzy throw their arms around each other, both laughing out loud in disbelief, Clary and Jace are locked in a tight embrace, and Simon looks on the verge of bursting into tears, Raphael next to him with a rare smile on his face. The rest of the team are cheering and shouting out ecstatically, jumping up and down and pulling each other into hugs.

Alec shakes himself out of it, turns to his side and finds Magnus standing next to him, and their gazes lock immediately. Magnus’s mouth is slightly open in shock, but his eyes are overjoyed and shining with unshed tears as he looks back unwaveringly at Alec.

Alec doesn’t let himself think or hesitate for second. He turns to face Magnus fully and cups his face in his hands, pulling him in close and leaning down to capture his lips with his own. Magnus responds instinctively, bringing his arms up to wrap around Alec’s waist as he automatically parts his lips and presses closer. For a brief moment, the rest of the kitchen disappears around Alec, and his focus narrows down to the man in his arms. He gently caresses the soft skin of Magnus’ cheek with his thumb, tilting his head back to deepen the kiss and Magnus replies with a small, surprised noise, his hands gripping the back of Alec’s black chef jacket tightly.

When they finally pull apart, the entire team around them is cheering and catcalling just as loudly as before, all of them with gleeful grins plastered on their faces. Both Izzy and Lydia are wearing identical smug smiles, and they exchange a quick, knowing look. Alec hears Jace let out a piercing wolf whistle, and he huffs out a quiet laugh, feeling his face heat as he drops his head to rest against Magnus’, his arms locked around the other man.

“I guess your rule is officially no more then, darling. Seeing as you very obviously just broke it in front of your entire team,” Magnus whispers, looking up at him, and Alec’s heart soars.

“I think it was as good as broken from the moment you walked into my kitchen,” Alec replies, just as softly. Magnus’ warm eyes melt into an adoring gaze, full of affection, and Alec can’t help leaning in to press another lingering kiss to his lips.

“Hey you two, I hate to interrupt your moment, but I think this will make you very happy,” Lydia calls out, looking back down at her laptop, smirking slightly as she reads something on the screen.

They both turn to look at her, still in a loose embrace, and her smirk turns into a full-blown grin.

“Guess what? _Dumort_ not only didn’t win their third star, they failed to keep their second one. They’re down to one star!”

The team explode into joyous cheers and applause again and Magnus laughs out loud, shaking his head with a smile as he watches them. Alec looks back at him, and his eyes don’t leave Magnus for one second as he gazes down at the other man, drinking in the pure happiness on his face.

“Well, how about that. Looks like Jace and I didn’t even have to release rats into her kitchen like we planned,” Alec muses, a small grin tugging at his lips. He runs his hands lightly up and down Magnus’ back, before coming to settle around his waist.

Magnus lets out a soft gasp and he gently slaps a hand over Alec’s chest. “Alexander, you wouldn’t have!”

“I might have,” Alec replies, schooling his face into a solemn expression, but there is a teasing glint in his eyes.

Magnus shakes his head fondly and he tugs Alec closer into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of Alec’s neck. Alec’s eyes drift shut as he holds Magnus, feeling like his chest is about to burst apart with happiness with the pastry chef finally back in his arms. An oven timer suddenly goes off in the background, and they slowly pull apart, still grinning at each other.

“Guys, family meal!” Jace calls out, and the rest of the team start moving over toward the middle of the kitchen, still chattering excitedly and laughing amongst themselves. Alec tugs Magnus in close to his side, wrapping an arm around the other man and pressing a kiss onto his temple as they watch the others pull up stools, gathering around the large counter.

Jace is setting a large lasagne down on the countertop, Raj bringing over a bowl of salad behind him as Izzy and Clary hand around plates and cutlery. Lydia is popping open a bottle of sparkling, non-alcoholic wine for the team and bickering good-naturedly with Raphael, who is arguing they should have real champagne to celebrate, despite the fact that they all have to start work in half an hour.

Magnus pulls Alec over to the counter and they take their seats next to each other, joining the others. Alec smiles at Simon in thanks as he passes him a plate; on his other side, Magnus is laughing at something Izzy is saying.

Under the tabletop, Magnus reaches out to find Alec’s hand unerringly and as they interlock their fingers, Alec is filled with a rush of contentment. He lets the conversation and laughter from the others wash over him as he turns to his left to meet Magnus’ gaze. His breath catches as he takes in the warm, happy look in the other man’s eyes, reflecting everything he is feeling inside and Alec feels like he is on top of the world, knowing that winning the third star is only a small part of the reason why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all know I had to finish this with the sappiest happy ending ever! Stay tuned for a short epilogue next chapter ;) Thank you all for reading and your sweet comments, they just make my day!


	9. Epilogue

_Two years later._

 

“Alexander, where are we going?”

Magnus can’t help but let a teasing whine slip into his voice as Alec leads him down yet another narrow cobblestone lane, his eyes locked on the GPS on the phone in his hand.

“Babe, please!” Alec laughs. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Magnus quietens down and lets Alec continue leading him, relaxing and enjoying the sights as they weave through the little back streets of the Italian city. 

Alec had been reluctant when Magnus first brought up the idea of a trip overseas to celebrate their two-year anniversary. Since becoming head chef at The Institute, he had not taken off more than a few days of work at a time, anxious about leaving the kitchen for a long period of time, and it had seemed out of the question for both him and Magnus to both go on holiday at the same time and leave the team without the head and pastry chef.

In the end, Lydia had stepped in, barging into Alec’s office after a busy lunch service with a fierce, determined look on her face.

“You’re taking two weeks off end of next month, and don’t even bother coming up with one of your lame excuses,” she says, her tone leaving no room for argument. She holds a hand up as Alec starts to open his mouth with a frown. “Nope. I’ve already approved leave for you and Magnus. Please, Alec. In the last two years, you’ve barely taken more than ten days of leave. For God’s sakes, even when you had pneumonia, Jace and Raj had to forcibly remove you from the kitchen.”

She arches a brow and continues, pointedly ignoring Alec as he rolls his eyes up to the ceiling.

“Jace and Clary can lead the kitchen while you’re gone, and I’m confident in Madzie’s abilities to take over pastry for two weeks. Magnus has trained her well. Please go and enjoy a well-deserved holiday with your boyfriend.”

With that, Lydia turns on her heels and leaves his office, and a week later Alec books two return flights to Florence, Italy.

-

“Okay, we’re almost there.”

Alec glances back at Magnus, unable to hide the excited grin that tugs at his lips. He squeezes Magnus’ hand, which is tucked tightly into his own. Magnus lifts a brow curiously, but allows Alec to pull him forward, and as they turn a corner, his mouth falls open in shock as he takes in the sight before him.

The tiny trattoria looks almost exactly the same as the last time he had been here, years ago with Catarina, the night he had eaten the most amazing pasta of his life. Granted, he had been a little tipsy from a few too many _aperitivos_ , and the memory was hazy, but there was no doubt about it.

There are the same tiny fairy lights twining in the ivy that creeps up the worn walls of the building, framing the painted green shuttered doors that are propped open to reveal the cosy, warm interior of the restaurant. Magnus recalls the little wooden chairs set up outside on the cobblestone street, the red and white checked tablecloths and the recycled wine bottles atop each table, each holding a red rose.

“Alexander…” Magnus breathes. He turns to his boyfriend, who is watching him with a pleased, wide grin. “Darling, how on earth did you manage to find it?”

Alec chuckles. “Well, it turns out Catarina was not as drunk as you were that night. I asked her to describe as much as she could remember, and then with a bit of research and more time than I care to admit on Google Earth, I managed to track it down.”

Magnus is staring at him in awe, his mouth still hanging open slightly and Alec tugs on his hand.

“Well, come on then. Let’s go have some of that famous parpadelle.” 

“I can’t believe this,” Magnus says softly once they are seated, looking around the little restaurant. The space is crowded with tables and chairs crammed closely together, the red brick walls covered in all sorts of mismatched picture frames. The waiters are calling out and chatting with each other loudly in rapid Italian, and it is chaotic and absolutely charming in the way authentic Italian restaurants manage to be. Magnus turns back to Alec, who is smiling softly at him across the little table.

He huffs out a laugh, gazing back at him. “Two years together and you still manage to amaze me, my darling.”

“In good ways, I hope.” Alec can’t resist reaching across the table to take Magnus’ hand, gently running his thumb across the faint, faded burn scar on the side. “Happy anniversary, Magnus.”

Magnus beams at him. “This is the best anniversary present ever. Good luck topping it next year, babe.”

Magnus is practically vibrating in his seat with excitement by the time the server sets down two large plates of steaming parpadelle on their table, each heaped with a generous helping of wild boar ragu. It smells absolutely enticing, warm and hearty, and Alec’s mouth is watering as the scent hits his nose, but he waits and watches as Magnus digs in first.

Magnus’ eyes drift close at the first taste of the dish and he sets down his fork, a look of pure pleasure on his face. “It’s perfect,” he says. “It’s exactly as I remembered.”

The pasta is just as good as Magnus promised, the freshly hand-made parpadelle cooked to perfection and the ragu fragrant, tender and flavourful. They both clean their plates, and Magnus is trying to convince Alec that they need to order at least three different desserts so they could try a bit of everything when Alec feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulls it out and grins as he opens Jace’s message, shaking his head in exasperation as he holds the phone out to show Magnus.

Magnus laughs out loud as he looks at the photo accompanying the text message. It’s a selfie Jace has taken of himself, with Clary, Izzy and Madzie squeezed in behind him, all of them pulling funny faces at the camera. The message reads,  _Hey Chef, the kitchen is on fire and we’ve lost all three stars in your absence. Come back, we can’t do anything without you,_ followed by several crying face emojis.

“I hate them,” Alec mutters, but he can’t hide the fond smile on his face.

“I can’t believe how fast they have corrupted my sweet little Madzie,” Magnus replies, still grinning down at the photo.

His assistant pastry chef is a small little thing, but smart as a whip and talented as hell. They had hired her straight out of the Culinary Institute and Magnus had known she was the perfect fit for the team as soon as he had tasted the gorgeous Matcha and orange blossom soufflé she had prepared at her interview.

Alec rolls his eyes. “Would you expect anything less from them?”

Magnus has a gleeful look on his face as he types back a reply, hitting send and passing the phone back to Alec, who laughs in delight as he reads the message.

_Leave us alone, kids. We are enjoying a much-needed break from you horrible children. Hugs and kisses, Magnus._

“Oh wait, darling, hand it back. I forgot to add the kissy face emoji,” Magnus says, and Alec smirks as he opens the camera app.

“Here, let’s do one better,” he says, and he holds up the phone, beckoning Magnus closer to snap their own selfie.

Magnus leans across the small table and plants a kiss on his cheek at the last minute, causing Alec to break out into a startled laugh just as he clicks the button. The resulting photo is a little blurry, but Alec sends it through anyway in the group chat they have with the rest of the team, and Izzy replies straightaway with a whole row of heart-eyed emojis. 

After dinner, they stroll leisurely back through the narrow cobblestone streets, hand in hand and taking in the sights of the city. The summer night is balmy and warm, and Alec feels full, happy and content as he glances at Magnus by his side. The pastry chef looks absolutely beautiful, in a loose white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his toned forearms, his skin tanned and glowing from the previous day they had spent on the beach in a nearby seaside town.

They come back out onto the main streets of Florence, heading back to their hotel, and as they cross a small bridge over the Arno River, Magnus stops in his tracks, pulling at Alec’s arm.

“Look, my love,” he says, his eyes wide and captivated, looking out across the river.

Alec turns to follow his gaze, and his breath catches as he takes in the stunning sight. The sun is setting over the famous Ponte Vecchio bridge, the sky awash in fiery shades of orange and pink and purple, reflecting in the shimmering water below. Around them, the historic city is coming to life, the surrounding buildings flicking its lights on and the banks of the river bustling with people and busy shops and restaurants.

They pause to watch, both leaning against the worn stone balustrade of the bridge. Alec shifts a little closer to Magnus, draping an arm around the other man and pulling him back against his chest. Magnus hums softly in contentment as he snuggles closer, their bodies slotting together perfectly and effortlessly. Alec rests his palm on Magnus’s chest, and Magnus brings his own hand up to intertwine their fingers together.

“I love you,” Alec murmurs, resting his cheek lightly on top of his boyfriend’s head, his purple-tipped hair soft and silky against his skin.

Magnus tilts his head back to meet his gaze, and Alec feels his heart skip a beat at the tenderness shining in his warm brown eyes.

“I love you too, darling,” Magnus whispers back and Alec leans down to press a gentle kiss on his lips, their eyes drifting close as they lazily explore each other’s mouths.

When they pull apart, Magnus turns back to gaze out across the river again, and Alec tightens his hold on the other man, savouring the warmth of his body pressed against his. Alec lets his mind drift and wander as they watch the city. He remembers a conversation they had shared over two years ago in a quiet, darkened park back in New York; the moment he had realised there was no going back from how deeply he had fallen for the pastry chef.

And Alec thinks how home used to only mean the gleaming steel countertops of a spotless kitchen, pans sizzling on stovetops and the metallic swish of a knife against a sharpening block. Then Magnus had walked into his restaurant and changed everything.

He is pulled back to the present as Magnus brings their joined hands up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist. Alec smiles as he thinks of the platinum ring enclosed within a small velvet box tucked deep inside his suitcase back in their hotel room, the most important question of his life he plans to ask Magnus later that night, and his absolute certainty of what Magnus’ answer will be.

His home is still in the kitchen, and it always will be, but Alec knows home now means so much more, with Magnus by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this started one Sunday afternoon when I was scouring the internet for restaurant AUs to read...and 38K words and a whole lot of recipe googling later...heh. THANK YOU to everyone who read/kudosed/left a comment, and for indulging me in this fluff fest. I hope you enjoyed it x

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have no professional knowledge about food or how restaurants/kitchens work, but am a huge sucker for restaurant AUs. All my knowledge comes from books/fic/movies or the internet. Please forgive me if I have any restaurant/food terminology wrong, and feel free to let me know if there are any mistakes I can correct.


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